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THE 


WANDERINGS AND FORTUNES 

gar 

0FS0ME JUL2 


GERMAN EMIGRANTS. 


v/ 

BY FREDERICK GERSTtECKER. 

I| 


TRANSLATED 

BY DAVID BLACK 


NEW- YORK : 

D. APPLETON & COMPANY, 200 BROADWAY. 

PHILADELPHIA : 

GEO. S. APPLETON, 148 CHESNUT-STREET. 

M DCCC XLVIII. 

A' 































CONTENTS 


CHAPTER I. 

THE SEA VOYAGE . 

The embarkation — First taste of salt water— Sea-sickness — Intestine 
dissensions — The passengers — Alsatians — The Oldenburghers and 
their wooden shoes — A calm — Fate of the wooden shoes — A child 
overboard — Capture of a shark — A storm — Effects of the storm — 
Death of a passenger — The storm abates — Complaints against the 
committee — The remonstrance — The committee’s vindication — Indo- 
lence of the Oldenburghers — A stratagem — Approach to the Ameri- 
can coast — “ Ashore! Ashore!” — Negro robbers — Termination of 
the voyage ......... p« 9 — 45 


CHAPTER II. 

A WEEK IN NEW YORK. 

The “ Switzer’s home” — Wonders of New York — “ Five hundred jour- 
neymen wanted!” — A civil countryman — The future settlement — 
An adventure on the Quay — “ The Switzer’s home” — A night’s “ rest” 
— The “ striped pig” — A natural curiosity maker — The “ striped pig” 
explained — Yankee dodges — Mr. Bechets address — The promised 
land — The purchase completed — A Methodist ranter — The tailor’s 
adventure — Letters of introduction — Suspicions against Dr. Normann 
— Dr. Normann’s " smartness” — The separation . . 45 — 79 


6 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER III. 

THE PILGRIMAGE TO THE SETTLEMENT. 


Scenery of the Hudson — The haunted island — A night on the Hudson — 
Utica — A “ railway hotel” repast — The Erie canal — A name for the 
future town — The canal bridges — The first death — The Falls of Ni- 
agara — American fences — Abandonment of luggage- — Difficulties in 
the treasury — The subscription — Cincinnati — Adventures in Cincin- 
nati — An old settler — The Negro barber — German- American politics 
— Political spouting — Daybreak on the Ohio — Normann’s love suit — 
The Cincinnati “ Museum” — First impressions of the Mississippi — 
Arrival at the Big Hatchee — The home in the wilderness 79 — 122 


CHAPTER IV. 

THE SETTLEMENT. 


A night in a shanty — The watchman’s horn — The woodsman’s hut — 
Death in the woods — The forest burial-place — A clearing on the 
Mississippi — A desolate scene — The “ river” and the “ town” — The 
floods of the Mississippi — A journey in the woods — Unpleasant fore- 
bodings — A town in the backwoods — A “ camp out” — The “ dead 
clearing” — The “ lot” identified — The disappointment — Forest lodg- 
ings — Use of the axe — Deer-stalking — Perils of hunting in the back- 
woods — Progress of settlement — A plot and a counter-plot 122 — 157 


CHAPTER V. 

EXCURSIONS HITHER AND THITHER. 

Plans for the future — How to “ get along” in America — Philadelphia — 
The Quaker City — Points of the compass — Letters of introduction — 
Steam-voyage to New Orleans — Approach to the city — “ Yellow 
Jack” — A New Orleans school — American school-system — Pleasant 
anticipations 157 — 174 


CONTENTS. 


7 


CHAPTER VI. 

THE SETTLEMENT AN UNEXPECTED VISIT. 

A u herd” of wild turkeys — Turkey -buzzards — A startling apparition — 
Dr. Normann — The doctor’s accomplice — The reconciliation — Sinis- 
ter speculations — Plans for abduction — “ Bear-tracking” 174 — 187 

CHAPTER VII. 

THE FLIGHT. 

Purchase of horses and cattle — Backwoods hospitality-^-The wolf and 
the sheep — •“ Salting” cattle — Elbow-room in the woods — “ West, 
ward Ho !” — Farming in the backwoods — “ Chicken fixings” — Rail- 
fence making — Mutual secrets — The deer-calf — Success of the ruse — 
The arrival of the cattle — Treachery discovered — Bertha’s fears — 
The Mulatto’s sudden appearance — The abduction completed — The 
Serpentine water-course — Narrow escape from discovery — The pur- 
surers at fault — The last gleam of hope 187 — 220 

CHAPTER VIII. 

THE MOUTH OF THE BIG HATCHEE. 

The shores of the Mississippi — Girdling — Settlers’ errors — New mode of 
banking — Settlements by communities — Schwarz’s plans — Wood- 
carrying on the “ go-ahead” priuciple — A backwoods " river” — A 
Mississippi steamer captain — American hospitality — The landing — 
An unexpected discovery 220 — 236 

CHAPTER IX. . 

TREACHERY WITHIN TREACHERY. 

Normann’s suspicions awakened — The Yankee’s escape — The pursuit — 
The deliverance — Suspense — Bertha restored to her father — An un- 
pleasant recognition — The mulatto’s escape — Death struggle on the 
Mississippi — The return to the settlement . 236 — 254 


8 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER X. 

THE MIGRATION. 

A new home — The old bachelor — A ride through the woods — The de- 
serted pastor — The break up of the colony — The pastor’s removal — 
Bringing home the bride — Two households arranged — The fortunes 
of some of the colonists — Conclusion .... 254 — 270 


THE 


WANDERINGS AND FORTUNES 

OF SOME 


GERMAN EMIGRANTS. 


CHAPTER I. 

THE SEA VOYAGE . 

The majority of the intending passengers by the new and 
smart bark, the “ Hoffnung,” Commander Wellbach, bound 
for New York, were assembled at Meier’s, the host of the 
Hull Arms Tavern, in the ancient Hanse-town of Bremen, 
prior to their departure, to hear the laws read, which had 
been drawn up by a committee chosen by themselves, from 
among their leading men, and to subscribe these laws. 
They related not only to the voyage across the ocean, but 
also to the proceedings of the Emigrants on their arrival in 
their new home, and were intended, as the preamble ex- 
pressed it, “ to unite firmly the Emigrants in a band of friend- 
ship for the attainment of one great object.” 

The Committee consisted of six members — namely, the 
Lutheran clergyman, or, as he is styled, the Pastor Hehr- 
mann ; Becher, an advocate ; a Mr. Von Schwanthal ; two 
brothers, merchants, named Siebert ; and a gentleman named 
Herbold, formerly a landed proprietor. They were zealous 
for the general welfare, and had, by these laws, reserved 
equal rights and assigned equal duties to each, so far at least 

2 


10 


THE SEA VOYAGE. 


as was compatible with the foregone determination of buying 
a block of land somewhere in the United States, immediately 
on their arrival in New York, of occupying it, of tilling it, 
and of harvesting it in common ; and such of the party as 
had never handled a plough or a spade, were as pleased as 
children with the thought of working hard in the New 
World — in the primeval forest — and pictured to themselves 
how well they should relish the bread to be raised by the toil 
of their own hands. 

The requisite funds for the voyage, as well as a small 
surplus for a beginning, had been previously handed over by 
each of the little community to the elder Siebert, as treasurer, 
who had accordingly bargained with the broker and paid for 
the passage ; and when all the passengers had signed the 
laws there no longer appeared to be any obstacle to their 
future happiness, or, at all events, none to their future con- 
cord and good-fellowship. 

Scarcely had this been concluded before a clerk of the 
shipbroker entered the room, and announced that one Peter, 
the master of a river craft, would start on the following 
morning at seven, with the passengers and lighter part of the 
baggage, such as they might want to get at during the 
vayage, for the “ Hoffnung,” a new copper- fastened and 
fast-sailing ship, then moored at Bremerhafen, waiting for 
them. 

There remained, therefore, but one night more in their 
native land ; even the most callous among them felt their 
spirits droop at the thought, and several wrung their hands 
in silence. 

“ How shall we feel, then,” said Pastor Hehrmann, who 
noticed this movement, “ when the last gray strip of land 
disappears in the distance, when the great desert of waters 
surrounds us, and our native land, which is still ours, tom 
from us, perhaps for ever ? ’Tis a serious step we are tak- 
ing, and let up all recollect how necessary it is for us to hold 
together with heart and soul. We are to face these dangers 
together, we must therefore act together for the common 
good, and not only unite our interests, but sincerely love each 
other as brothers.” 

Pastor Hehrmann was a worthy man, and meant what he 
said, and those who were acquainted with him knew it and 
honoured him, A long pause followed ; at length, the elder 


THE SEA VOYAGE. 


11 


Siebert, not without reason, reminded the Emigrants of their 
approaching departure, and that, no doubt, there must be 
many little matters to buy and to provide. This string once 
more touched, soon caused a universal movement and bustle ; 
the feelings were forgotten, and the body, particularly the 
stomach, for which they had to provide, asserted its just 
claims. 

Two large boats received the Emigrants at the hour fixed 
on the ensuing morning, and all of them — including the com- 
mittee and a few others of the travellers who had preferred 
passing the thirty-eight miles, which separated them from the 
ship, in the steamer which started five hours later, but was so 
much faster — were before long under way for the ship to 
which they were about to confide their property and their 
lives, for an uncertain and perhaps a dangerous voyage. 

They were a motley company these two boat-loads of 
human beings — men, women, children, girls, and young men 
all mixed together : and, as a sharp although light wind 
began to curl the waves, and rocked the boats a little, many 
a one felt a strange sinking at the heart, and some even 
inquired of the watermen whether sea-sickness was ever 
known to break out on the Weser-boats ; however, they 
reached unscathed the large ship which lay in the offing near 
Bremenhafen, whither she had been already towed out; 
there, all climbed on board in confused haste, the luggage 
followed, and a new world surrounded them. 

But there was not much time left for reflection ; the sun 
had nearly run his course, and every one had yet to make 
arrangements for passing the night, which seemed no easy 
task in the narrow space which was pointed out to them. 

A mason, who had quitted home with a wife and three 
little children, asked the mate, with downcast spirit, whether 
they were all to find quarters in that hole ; the answer was, 
“Yes.” Nor was this all; chest after chest, trunk upon 
trunk, were let down into a hold of about eleven yards in 
length by but a few yards in breadth, for the sleeping berths 
on either side almost filled it up, so that it appeared a puzzle 
to most of the travellers how the captain was to stow his 
living freight, if he had no more “rooms” for the purpose 
than this. 

Their surveys and conjectures were cut short for a while, 
by a signal from the ship’s cook, explained by the mate to 


12 


THE SEA VOYAGE. 


mean “ feeding time,” which called all of them to a small 
kitchen, painted green, and fastened to the deck by plaited 
ropes and iron hooks, there to “ catch hold,” as the cook ex- 
pressed it, of their tea and biscuit. Now, although doubtless 
hands were given us to “ catch hold ” with, yet it did not 
appear how they were to be applied for that purpose to the 
tea, all their vessels, and earthenware being carefully packed 
up in their chests and boxes. 

The consequence was, that most of them had to go without 
tea for that evening. There was a tanner, however, on board 
with a large family, who quietly expressed his opinion that 
those who would go to America must know how to help 
themselves, and taking hold of a large bucket, whereon a 
capital “ H ” was painted, he got the cook, who laughingly 
did as he wished, to pour the tea for his whole family into 
the bucket. 

“ I say, that’s too strong for the children,” quoth his wife, 
as she stared into the bucket ; “ you had better pour some 
more water into it.” 

“ But I’ve got none hot,” pleaded the husband, who would 
not understand the tea’s being too strong. 

*•' Well, then, take some cold,” replied his better half ; 
“ why, the tea is boiling hot.” 

The tanner with a sigh obeyed, and asked a sailor, who 
was just hauling up a bucketful, for some of it, which request 
the latter, so soon as he had been told what it was for, 
willingly granted, and with the most obliging countenance 
in the world, he diluted the tea for them which had been 
pronounced too strong. 

The sailor remained standing beside them. 

The tanner’s wife, after merely touching the mixture 
with her lips, to see that it was not too hot, poured a spoon- 
ful down the throat of her youngest child ; no sooner was it 
partly down, however, than he sung out lustily, struck about 
him with his hands and feet, and spluttered out that which 
he had just taken in great haste. Frightened to death, the 
woman took a gulp of the beverage herself, fearing lest she 
had scalded the child ; it was cool enough, but it produced 
nearly the same symptoms in her as it had in the child — 
the tea was completely — pickled. 

The sailor went back to his work, chuckling inwardly, 
first whispering to the husband, “ Now, do you see, you’re 
on salt water.” 


THE SEA VOYAGE. 


13 


Fortunately there was plenty of tea left for that evening, 
and the cook gave them a second allowance. 

But the time had now arrived for them to look after their 
sleeping places before it was quite dark, and all crept with 
their mattresses and blankets into one or other of the 
“ berths,” as the square boxes, fixed two and two, one over 
another, are called, in order to have some place to lay their 
heads for this night at all events, if not. for the whole voyage. 

It was a scene of disorder and confusion ; chests, boxes, 
umbrellas, hat-cases, blankets, mattresses, and cooking appa- 
ratus, and even here and there human beings stretched out 
upon them, laid about higgledy-piggledy, in the thickening 
twilight, and looked like some shapeless chaos. 

The water, fortunately, remained quiet, so that no danger 
was to be feared from the motion of the ship ; but as the rays 
of the following morning’s sun lighted up the steerage, they 
gave the unfortunate occupants some notion of the miseries 
of a sea voyage. 

For, some sailors letting themselves suddenly down the 
two hatchways, as though they had descended from the 
clouds, soon disturbed the tranquillity which, notwithstand- 
ing the confusion, seemed to reign below ; indeed some had 
passed the night in such break-neck positions that they hardly 
dared to move when the dawn discovered their relations to 
external objects. 

However, compelled by necessity, most of them clamber- 
ed on deck, and left the luggage to the sailors, who chocked 
and made it all fast to the uprights, with ropes and cords, so 
that it might not be thrown about by a rough sea. 

The committee, who had arrived about two hours earlier 
than the two boats, had taken up their quarters in the cabin, 
where they had arranged themselves tolerably comfortably, 
with the exception of the Pastor Hehrmann, who, remaining 
true to the resolution, “ that we are all equal,” would have 
no preference over the poorer class, and had taken possession 
of one of the berths close under the after hatchway, as being 
one of the most airy and healthy parts of the steerage. 

Every thing was arranged on this day ; each person had 
a permanent berth allotted to him, as also a certain allowance 
of butter for the week, and of beef or salt pork for the day ; 
that done, Pastor Hehrmann read a short prayer, and as soon 
as supper was over, most of the passengers went to rest 
wearied with the exertions of the day. 


14 


THE SEA VOYAGE. 


Towards morning a light wind arose ; sufficient to deter- 
mine the captain to get under weigh. The heavy anchor was 
weighed, and the majestic vessel slowly stretched out towards 
the mouth of the river. 

When they arrived there the breeze died away altogether, 
and the slack sails hung about the masts ; but at ten o’clock, 
when the greater part of the emigrants were assembled on 
deck, some little black clouds arose in the south-east, spread- 
ing themselves out and covering the whole sky ; the wind, 
with extraordinary rapidity, howled over the excited waters 
towards the ship, filled the sails and laid her quite on one side, 
and passed on over the as yet slightly curled waves. 

At this stage most of the travellers who were below, more 
particularly the female part of them, rushed out of the cabin, 
calling for the Captain, “ for,” said they, “ the ship is falling 
over.” In vain did the mate and some of the crew assure 
them to the contrary. “ No, they had the evidence of their 
senses that the ship lay all on one side, and of course it must 
fall over, whether it would or no and then, alas ! the con- 
sequences which they painted were so dreadful, that they 
filled them afresh with horror, and crying and sobbing, and 
no longer able to stand, they held on by the water-casks 
which were fastened to the deck. 

But a mightier soother than mate or captain either, now 
trod upon the scene, one that not only pacified their spirits 
but within a few hours made them all as indifferent to storms 
and waves as though they were reposing on their respectable 
stable mother-earth — this was sea-sickness. Excited by the 
winds, the waves raised their crests higher and higher, and 
the ship rose and fell with them ; but, the higher the waves 
rose the more were the hearts of the poor emigrants dejected, 
and they lay about the deck with chalk-coloured faces, re- 
gardless of the sprays which washed over them and wet them 
to the skin. 

Pastor Hehrmann and another, a young doctor, named 
Werner, who, to escape from the water which flooded the 
deck, had climbed into the lower cross-trees, and taken up 
his quarters there, were the only persons who were spared 
by the ruthless sea-tyrant ; they kept in the open air and did 
not feel the least inconvenience. 

Things were not much better in the cabin than in the 
steerage ; Mr. Herbold seemed to bear it better than the rest, 


THE SEA VOYAGE. 


15 


but even he appeared pale and ill. The others were in a 
pitiable state, and the elder Siebert, who lay in one of the 
lower berths, two and two having a little cabin to themselves, 
at length dare not venture his head out at all ; so exactly did 
his brother, who rested, or rather tortured himself above, 
seem to lie in wait for the opportunity of having a fresh at- 
tack of this dreadful and not to be suppressed sickness. 

Mr. Becher accounted himself as one doomed to death, 
and M. Von Schwanthal affirmed that as for him he existed 
only in his stomach. 

Fortunately this state of things was not of long continu- 
ance, for already on the following day the wind abated, and 
also the waves, although the ship continued to dance up and 
down merrily, and as yet but few of the sick had completely 
recovered. 

A general demand now arose for herrings and such like 
things, for those who began to recover and to get back their 
appetites could not make up their minds to the hard ship’s 
biscuit and the salt beef and pickled pork, and lamented for 
something comfortable to the stomach. 

Here again, Pastor Hehrmann, who, more by accident 
than from any hope of their utility, had brought a small 
barrel of herrings with him, was at hand to assist them, and 
he divided the herrings willingly and gladly among the con- 
valescent. 

The wind remained moderate, and every thing promised 
a prosperous voyage. 

On the fourth day they came in sight of the French town 
of Calais, and the town of Dover, on the opposite English 
coast ; sailed on the following morning past the Isle of Wight 
— and on the evening of the sixth day they entered the 
Atlantic Ocean. 

Scarcely recovered from sea-sickness, the little commu- 
nity in the steerage had by no means adapted itself with con- 
tented mind to the novelty and inconvenience of its situation ; 
on the contrary, they already lived in discord and hatred 
among themselves, and their minds were becoming more and 
more embittered. 

Pastor Hehrmann, indeed, did all he could to restore 
peace, and was partially successful ; but fresh outbreaks 
were constantly occurring, and the committee thought them- 
selves called upon to interfere. 


16 


THE SEA VOYAGE. 


A cabinet-maker, who had travelled in Russia and Poland, 
in Denmark and Sweden, in Prussia and Austria, as he had 
related a hundred times to his patient hearers, got into a 
quarrel with a stout brewer — had called the latter by some 
opprobrious epithet, and was knocked down in consequence 
by the brewer, who had a mind to put an end to the matter 
at once. The cabinet-maker was quieted, it is true, but the 
brewer had a harder combat before him, for nearly all the 
women took part with the vanquished, and such a storming 
and scolding as now arose had never before been heard on 
board the HofFnung. 

Meanwhile the committee had determined to interfere, and 
its members betook themselves to the hatchway of the steer- 
age, whence a confused murmur of voices met them. 

M. Von Schwanthal, a good, amiable man, but not of the 
cleverest, volunteered to allay the ferment by a short speech, 
and although Mr. Becher opposed this, the rest were con- 
tent. M. Von Schwanthal, therefore, descended backwards 
a few steps of the stairs, little better than a ladder, which led 
below, till he thought he had got far enough to overlook the 
interior, and then turned round and addressed the assembly 
below politely, with — “ Gentlemen,” (Ladies would have 
been more appropriate,) when unfortunately his feet slipped 
forward, and he arrived at the feet of the breakers of the 
peace more speedily than he had purposed. 

“ Good morning, M. Von Schwanthal,” said the brewer, 
quietly, who, notwithstanding the noise and disturbance 
around him, sat very comfortably on his large round-topped 
chest, filling a pipe of tobacco. 

“ But, my good people,” cried M. Von Schwanthal, jump- 
ing quickly upon his feet — the rest of his address was un- 
heard, a roar of laughter drowned his words, and mortified, 
and swearing inwardly, M. Von Schwanthal regained the 
deck. 

However, he had attained his object — peace was restored 
for the moment at all events, for the people now only laughed 
at the mishaps of their committee-man. But new squabbles 
arose daily, and the ill feeling extended towards the com- 
mittee-men whom they had themselves elected, and who, it 
was suggested behind their backs, might have taken their 
passage in the steerage like the rest, “ for in America all 
men are equal.” 


THE SEA VOYAGE. 


17 


Some Alsatian peasants were particularly warm in sup- 
port of these opinions. Their words sounded like thunder. 
They swore that they would no longer be ridden over rough- 
shod by the gentry, as they had been, but intended to give 
them a bit of their mind at the earliest opportunity. 

On the other hand, a little troop of Oldenburghers, con- 
sisting of twelve stout young fellows, lived contentedly 
enough ; they troubled themselves about nothing, came upon 
deck regularly three times a day to receive their meat and 
drink, and laid themselves quietly down again on their mat- 
tresses in their berths to rest themselves, as they called it. 

The whole of these worthies wore large wooden shoes, to 
the great vexation of their fellow passengers ; and when they 
lay in bed, as they did during the greater portion of the day, 
they placed these shoes in front of their berths, so that peo- 
ple had often tumbled over them in the narrow dark passage 
through which they had to wind their way. The Olden- 
burghers, notwithstanding the threats and remonstrances of 
the others, would not remedy the grievance, contending that 
they were as good as the rest, that in America all people 
were equal, and that nobody had any right to forbid them 
from placing their wooden shoes where they thought proper. 

Some of the women felt their position amidst these con- 
stant bickerings and squabbles to be a very unpleasant one, and 
amongst others, the wife and daughters of the Pastor Hehr- 
mann, who, surrounded in the steerage by clamour, scarcely 
liked to leave the deck, when evening closed over them', to 
venture down again into the dark hold. 

The Captain, it is true, several times good naturedly of- 
fered them the cabin for their abode, but Pastor Hehrmann 
would not accept it, dreading, not without cause, lest he 
should thereby excite more discontent amongst his restless 
countrymen, already ill enough disposed towards their “ gen- 
teel ” committee-men. 

Pastor Hehrmann’s daughters were respectively seven- 
teen and nineteen years of age, and two more tender and 
amiable creatures never traversed the Atlantic to accompany 
their parents in search of a home beyond it. 

They were slim and well grown, and in their almost 
black hair and dark glowing eyes one could scarcely recog- 
nize daughters of the North. They tended their delicate 
mother, who had suffered seriously from sea sickness, with 


18 


THE SEA VOYAGE. 


care and love, and did all in their power to smooth her disa- 
greeable position. 

The HofFnung had in this manner left about a hundred 
German miles (nearly five hundred English miles) behind 
her, when one morning the wind suddenly ceased, the sea 
became as smooth as glass, the ship stood immovable, and 
the sun shone down clearly and cheerfully from the pure un- 
clouded sky. 

It was such a day at sea as restores sick persons to balmy 
health, and causes healthy persons to forget that they are 
floating on a few boards over an almost bottomless abyss cut 
off from all human aid. The day passed in rejoicing, in 
singing and dancing, and it was nigh midnight before the 
last of the travellers betook themselves to rest, leaving the 
deck to the sailors of the watch. 

All was still, when a dark figure cautiously and noise- 
lessly emerged from the steerage ; it carried something un- 
der its arms and in its hands, approached the bulwarks and 
threw it over ; it fell on the water with a splash ; all was 
silent once more, and the figure disappeared through the 
hatchway. 

Two sailors sitting in the bows had been spectators of 
this proceeding, and endeavoured to make out what it was 
which the unknown person had confided to the deep ; but it 
was too dark, and they leaned back into their former attitudes 
of repose, to resume the yarn which one of them had been 
spinning, when again the same figure appeared, and again 
cast something, whatever it might be, overboard. 

“ I say, Jack,” whispered one of them to the other, “ what 
can it be that yon fellow is throwing overboard ? it splashes 
so in the water ; let us see what it is.” 

“ Oh, never mind,” answered his messmate ; “ whatever 
it may be, it’s nothing belonging to us, for he fetched it out 
of the steerage ; but I think I see something floating on the 
water.” 

“ By Jove, and so do I,” replied the other ; “ come along ; 
I should like to know what it can be.” 

The two sailors advanced, but the figure had already 
withdrawn itself ; they could, however, distinctly make out 
some light objects upon the smooth sea, and were still specu- 
lating upon what it could be, when the mysterious one re- 
appeared for the third time, loaded as before ; he paused a 


THE SEA VOYAGE. 


19 


moment on perceiving the two sailors, but his irresolution 
did not last long, for stepping gently forward, he looked cau- 
tiously round for a moment, and then laughingly showed the 
curious spectators several pairs of wooden shoes, which he 
launched into the Atlantic, like the rest. 

“ Well,” said he, when the last consignment had been 
duly forwarded, “ we’re rid of them, anyhow, but don’t say 
a word, for God’s sake,” he continued, seizing by the arms 
the two sailors, who were just about to roar out. “Hush ! 
I beg of you. If those bumpkins were to know that it is I 
who played them this trick, they would be the death of me. 
But one of them trod so heavily on my poor corns the other 
day with his wooden machines, that I vowed to do it ; but 
not a word — you promise that ?” 

The sailors laughingly gave their words not to betray the 
least hint, and the little mischievous journeyman tailor, who, 
as a South German, had a native hatred to the Low Germans, 
slipped down unobserved to his rest, perfectly satisfied. 

Who shall describe the noise, the abuse, and the threats 
on the one side, or the rejoicing on the other, the following 
morning, when the Oldenburghers, wanting to get up to 
breakfast, were unable to find their wooden shoes in their 
accustomed places, but in lieu thereof discovered them float- 
ing round the vessel at a distance of some hundred yards. 

They cursed and threatened loudly, and requested the Cap- 
tain, who was just coming up the companion stairs, with his 
hands in his pockets, and could hardly conceal his amazement, 
that he would let a boat be put out to fish up the lost sheep. 
But he replied gravely, that the weather looked much too 
suspicious ; that a squall might spring up at a moment’s 
notice, therefore he could not venture to leave the ship in a 
small boat. 

“ But, Captain,” said one of the much injured lads, 
“ where is the squall to come from ? The sky is all blue !” 

“ Do you see that black cloud, down yonder, near the 
horizon, in the west?” asked the Captain, pointing at the 
same time towards that quarter. 

“ No !” was the unanimous answer of the Oldenburghers. 

“ You don’t see it ? Well, it’s all one — I see it ! Besides 
you can’t tell sky from sea yet ! But the cloud looks sus- 
picious — and I wouldn’t lose a boat and four hands for all 
the wooden shoes that were ever made !” 


20 


THE SEA VOYAGE. 


With these words he turned upon his heel, and walked 
down the companion stairs again. 

The Oldenburghers now applied to the committee, and de- 
manded that they should recover their property for them. 
But Mr. Becher, with a shrug of the shoulders, gave it as his 
opinion that the jurisdiction of the committee extended, it is 
true, to the whole of the vessel, but not for an indefinite 
number of yards round her into the sea ; therefore, that the 
gentleman must either make themselves comfortable — or else, 
fetch the shoes themselves. 

One of them was in the act of proposing, as the sea was so 
still, to jump in, and to collect the fugitives by swimming ; 
while the rest were uttering maledictions on the head of the 
author of their troubles, and announcing how they would 
all thrash him, if they could but catch him, when suddenly 
the cry, “ A shark ! a shark !” was heard from the cross-trees. 
It was young Werner, above alluded to, who had chosen that 
elevated place as his favourite resort, and to whom all eyes 
were now turned, to learn the direction in which the sea 
monster was to be found. 

Werner pointed to the streak of light formed by the sun 
upon the water, and all the voyagers distinctly perceived from 
the deck the dorsal fin of the shark, standing six or seven 
inches out of the water. 

Although several of these voracious creatures had been 
already round the ship, still probably few of the travellers 
had seen one of them, and all pressed to the ship’s side to 
view the fish, as it came nearer and nearer to the ship and 
the surrounding wooden shoes. 

“Well, I should like to know whether he eats wooden 
shoes !” said the Brewer, rubbing his hands complacently, and 
watching every movement of the creature. 

His wish seemed on the point of being fulfilled, for the fish, 
approaching the first sabot, described a circle round it, and 
all expected the immediate disappearance of the same, when 
a fearful cry — such a cry as can only issue from the breast 
of a terrified mother — was heard from the midst of the crowd 
which had pressed, full of curiosity, to the bulwarks, and in 
the same moment, a heavy body fell on the smooth surface 
of the waters, and sank beneath it. 

“ My child ! my child !” cried the woman, in the very 
act of throwing herself after the helpless being, which now 


THE SEA VOYAGE. 


21 


reappeared on the surface, struggling and gurgling. But 
those who surrounded her held her back, and gazed, in ap- 
prehension of the worst, at the swiftly-approaching shark, 
which now shot forward like an arrow, its attention being 
aroused by the splash of the object in the water. 

Both the daughters of Pastor Hehrmann had witnessed 
the child’s fall ; and the eldest of them, in a voice almost 
choked by terror, cried, “ Help ! help ! for God’s sake !” 
“ Launch the boat !” cried the Captain. But there was some 
delay. A few seconds more must decide the fate of the child 
— for the shark was scarcely ten yards distant from him, and 
already seemed to scent its prey. It was then that the young 
man in the cross-trees glided down a rope with the activity 
of a sailor, and before any one could guess his purpose, or 
hinder him, sprang into the crystal flood beneath, right before 
the very jaws of the fish, and coming to the surface again, 
seized the child, which had just reappeared for the third 
time. 

A cry of admiration at this desperate boldness arose from 
sailors as well as passengers ; but the shark, frightened by 
the loud dash, and rendered uneasy by the cries and noise 
on board the ship, drew back from the booty he had almost 
reached, and careered around the brave swimmer in narrow 
circles. 

“ Strike with your hands — splash — kick — make as much 
noise as you can !” cried the seamen with one accord. But 
the Captain had caught up a rope, and threw it to the young 
man, who, holding the child in his left arm, seized the rope 
with the right one, and held himself afloat by it, while he 
kicked out with all his force, and splashed the water far 
around him. 

“ Sling the rope round your elbow,” called the Captain, 
“ and we can haul you up.” The young man did so ; but all 
his bold and generous sacrifice seemed in vain, for the shark, 
who by this time had found that there was no danger to be 
apprehended from this quarter, shot forward once more. 

The sailors, indeed, hauled the rope with their utmost 
strength and good-will, but their help seemed to come too late ; 
for the monster was but a few feet off from him, and was just 
about to turn on its back, to snap at the body of the unhappy 
man, when — in that very moment — when every one in breath- 
less and fearful dread awaited to see the worst — a heavy piece 


22 


THE SEA VOYAGE. 


of meat fell into the sea, close to the open fangs of the shark, 
and was swallowed by him as quick as lightning. 

It is true, that this mouthful only seemed to have whetted 
his appetite for more, for he turned again, and made a second 
movement to seize the body of the bold swimmer, who was 
already half drawn up from his watery grave ; but suddenly 
the shark began to lash the water with his tail, started back 
several feet, and dived down. 

Nobody troubled himself at the moment as to the cause 
of this almost inexplicable salvation, for all that had hands 
hauled away to get the poor fellow, who was almost terrified 
to death, on board ; and he had scarcely handed the living 
child to its mother, before he fell back senseless in the arms 
of those around him. 

But there was not a woman on board who would not now 
have pressed forward to call back the fainted one into life ; 
and the mother of the saved child threw herself on her knees, 
and audibly besought the Almighty not to rob her so soon of 
the saviour of her only joy. Meanwhile, the attention of the 
travellers was distracted from the patient, whom, besides, 
they knew to be in good hands, towards the sea, whence a 
great splashing and noise resounded anew. 

It was the shark, which, caught by the hook which the 
cook had fastened in the lump of meat, and thrown to him in 
the nick of time, was striking and tearing in the vain endea- 
vour to regain his lost freedom. All hands laid hold of the 
rope, and after a time the immense fish (for he was about 
fourteen feet long) floundered on the deck, striking it till the 
planks shook again. 

But he did not live long — passengers as well as sailors 
caught hold of whatever came to hand, and the creature, with 
its head shattered, soon writhed in its own blood. 

While the men, on the one hand, were thus busied with 
the destruction of the life of their adversary, the women, on. 
the other, were tending their charge with tender care, and 
watching anxiously every symptom which might announce 
returning consciousness. 

There was no surgeon on board — as, indeed, there hardly 
ever is on board of ships destined for emigrants — but the 
Captain had abandoned his medicine-chest to them, and Hoff- 
man’s drops, sal volatile, and several other powerful remedies 
were applied to bring the colour back to the pale cheeks, and 
open the closed eyelids. 


THE SEA VOYAGE. 


23 


At last a deep sigh escaped from the brest of the uncon- 
scious one ; the women uttered cries of joy, and Hehrmann’s 
elder daughter clasped her sister’s hand fervently, and called 
her a good , dear girl, while a tear glistened in her own eye. 

Young Werner recovered, though but slowly ; and it was 
touching to see the woman, with the rescued child on her 
arm, fall down on her knees' before him, and kiss his hand, 
so that he could hardly prevent her. Even the hardy sailors 
felt their hearts warm and soften at the sight. 

All squabbles and disputes were put an end to by this 
occurrence, at least far a time, and even the Oldenburghers 
tried to forget their wooden shoes, particularly as, towards 
evening, a light east wind sprang up and filled the slack sails, 
and removed the ship more and more from them. 

About midnight, however, a fresh favourable south-easter 
sprang up, that sent the Hoffnung pretty fast on her destina- 
tion ; the sails were filled, and the white spray splashed from 
her bows ; the wind did not increase for some days, so that 
the sea was not much agitated, the motion of the ship gentle, 
and the travellers, who by degrees became accustomed to the 
rocking to and fro, suffered little from sea-sickness ; and even 
Mrs. Hehrmann, who had dropped the title of “ pastoress ” 
at Bremen, began to recover, and was often on deck. 

Young Werner, who by his boldness had made himself 
the favourite of the whole ship, attached himself more espe- 
cially to the family of the Hehrmanns, and in particular was 
attentive to the women in contriving and executing a number 
of little comforts to better or smooth their situation, which 
was by no means one of the pleasantest. Many a kind look 
from the elder daughter, Bertha, was his reward, and on 
these occasions he felt that a new and glad world opened 
itself before him, as though he had already, on the desert 
seas, found a home, which he had hoped to find in foreign 
distant climes. 

It was late one evening ; the moon, that but shortly be- 
fore had poured her friendly light upon the slightly curled 
sea, hid her disk, which was nearly at the full, behind thin 
clouds, that floated past her quicker and quicker, that covered 
her closer and closer, till at last a faint glimmer announced 
the spot where she tried in vain to break a passage, and to 
dispel the closing shadows. 

Werner, wrapped in his cloak, had been relating the tale 


24 


THE SEA VOYAGE. 


of his life, a simple one, to old Hehrmann ; how he had, 
yonder, lost all that was dear to him; how he was bound, 
with the rest of his fortune, to that strange country which is 
the hope and the silent longing of thousands, either to found 
a new home among strangers, or else, at all events, not to be 
daily reminded that he had once possessed such, and now 
was banished from the threshold of his paternal house, 
tenanted by strange people. 

The two girls, wrapped closely in their mantles, and lean- 
ing against their father, had listened with breathless attention, 
when the loud orders of the Captain, who issued his com- 
mands quickly through a speaking-trumpet, disturbed the 
confidential conversation, and called the attention of the 
friends to what was passing around them. 

An ominous rustling and whispering from the sea greeted 
the ear, Tind the dark waves, sprinkled as it seemed with 
millions of glistening stars, rolled and tumbled together more 
uneasily. 

The Captain’s voice sounded louder and shorter, and the 
sailors climbed like cats up the shrouds, ran along the yards, 
and fastened the loosened and fluttering sails to them. Scarce 
was this dangerous work over before a distant howling was 
heard. With fearful rapidity it hurried nearer, and in a few 
minutes more the ship flew, with her jib and foresail only 
set, like an arrow through the heaving waves. 

The passengers, warned by the Captain, forsook the deck, 
and Pastor Hehrmann and Werner were the only ones who 
defied the weather, for the waves looked terrifically beautiful 
in their dark grandeur, when the white and glowing looking 
foam shot past on their crests, and dissolved itself in a thou- 
sand little sparks. At last, however, they were obliged to 
quit the deck, for heavy drops fell from the clouds that 
towered themselves closer and closer. They descended, not 
without casting many an inquiring and fearful look towards 
the threatening sky, with some reluctance into the dark 
between decks, whence a suffocating vapour waved against 
them, and where they required some minutes before they got 
used to the close and vitiated air, and ventured to breathe it 
freely. 

A hollow sea was running; the waves struck heavily 
against the sides of the ship, which quivered at each blow. 
Still the wind had not had time to raise the sea much, and 


TIIE SEA VOYAGE. 


25 


the good ship, heeling over to leeward, which gives a vessel 
a more secure, and even a more quiet position than when the 
sea is right abaft, and the lofty structure rolls from side to 
side, shot forward rapidly through the dark flood, dashing 
the white foam before her, so that most of the travellers sank 
into the arms of sleep, quietly and heedlessly. 

And Werner, too, crept into his berth, and listened for a 
long time, with his ear pressed close to the ship’s side, to the 
surging and dashing and thundering of the waves without, 
until his eyes also were weighed down by weariness, and he 
found in his dreams the happiness that he was now driving 
through storms and waves to seek. 

A wild and confused cry, the lumbering and crashing of 
heavy objects, and an almost stupefying acute pain in the 
head, awoke him. He opened his eyes in terror and wonder ; 
but although pitchy darkness surrounded him, he could dis- 
tinguish that the ship must have changed her course, and 
therefore now leaned over on the side he was on, for his 
head laid low down, while his feet were elevated. He 
quickly changed his position. But the fearful noise between 
decks continued, and, creeping out of his berth, he soon 
became aware of the shocking condition in which he, as well 
as all his fellow-passengers, was placed. 

In the space which separates the two rows of sleeping 
places, there stand beams or pillars, ten feet apart from each 
other, destined as well for the support of the deck, which 
rests upon them, as for the security of the luggage within, 
and to these the chests and boxes, the trunks and packages, 
Which are to be used, or their contents consumed, by the 
travellers on the passage, and therefore cannot be put into 
the hold, are lashed with ropes ; and this is always done by 
the sailors, in order that, in the event of a sudden squall, or 
of continued stormy weather, the heavy baggage may not be 
hurled hither and thither in the narrow space, and endanger 
the limbs or lives even of its closely-packed tenants. 

This had been, and properly, done on board the Hoffnung, 
and that in such wise that most of the lids and covers could 
be opened, and so permit the free use of their provision and 
clothes’ stores ; but one of the countrymen, not comprehend- 
ing the evil consequences of its omission, had unfastened one 
of the ropes — notwithstanding the cautions oft several of his 
fellow-passengers — to enable him to take something out of 
his chest more conveniently. 


26 


THE SEA VOYAGE. 


The little tailor, who lay in the berth over his, probably 
had some indistinct vision of chests and boxes dancing about^ 
for he tried to fasten the rope again, but not being initiated 
in the mystery of tying such knots, he was only partially 
successful. When, therefore, the ship began to rise and 
jerk about, when the whole weight of the luggage swung 
over, first to this side and then to the other, the knot was 
loosened, and first the little packages and boxes came tumb- 
ling down from their elevations, and at last the heavy artillery, 
the immense storehouses of the emigrants, followed. 

It is true that, with praiseworthy zeal, several of these 
latter jumped out of their berths so soon as they observed 
the danger, but such was the mad motion of the ship that 
they could hardly keep on their legs, much less govern these 
heavy bodies, and a sudden movement of the ship throwing 
every thing towards them, compelled them hastily to retreat 
to their berths, which were protected by stout planks, in order 
to avoid being injured or crushed by the approaching chests. 

Their position was a fearful one, and was rendered more 
so by the cries of a young lad who had been trying to reach 
the opening towards the deck, and had been seriously hurt 
by one of the chests which rolled against him ; while on all 
sides the shrieks of women, the cries of children, and the 
groans and retching of the sea-sick, resounded from the 
berths. It was a scene of dreadful confusion, and in vain 
did they all call for the sailors to help them ; none of them 
could have been of any use in the darkness, had they had 
leisure to attend to the unhappy passengers. 

It was then, when every one believed that the terror had 
reached its height, and could not be increased, that a cry of 
dread and agony pierced through the noise and tumult, and 
even the children and the sick stopped their lamentations to 
listen to that sound, and to the momentary complete silence 
which succeeded the tumult ; but it was only for a moment 
that cry of fear ; “ A corpse, a corpse !” echoed from berth 
to berth, from mouth to mouth. 

Among the passengers on board the Hoffnung there was 
an old woman, a widow, and her only daughter, who had 
gone out at the request of her son, a cabinet-maker in New 
York. He, being in tolerably easy circumstances, wished 
to have his poor old mother, who fared poorly enough in 
Germany, beside him ; and had sent home the means to 


THE SEA VOYAGE. 


27 


enable her and his sister to make the voyage over, to come 
and live with him. 

The poor old woman, however, who was ailing when she 
came on board, and had been much shaken by the sea sick- 
ness, no doubt in the confusion and terror of that night consi- 
dered the destruction of the ship inevitable, and fear hastened 
the catastrophe for which bodily weakness and illness had 
prepared the way. 

She died, pressed to the heart of her daughter, who con- 
vulsively embraced her ; and it was the latter, feeling her 
mother’s body at her breast grow cold, who had uttered the 
shriek of terror and agony. 

But all their prayers for help were vain ; the poor young 
girl was alone obliged to preserve the corpse from the rolling 
of the ship, and there she lay for some hours with her dead 
mother in her arms. 

Day, which had been so ardently and fearfully longed for, 
broke at last, and with it came help in their really shocking 
need. 

Eight sailors and the second mate came below to the un- 
fortunate people, and in danger of their lives, and not with- 
out several severe bruises, made fast the chests and boxes 
once more, while the ship heaved yet more madly, and rolled 
from side to side. 

The first thing to be done was to remove the corpse from 
between decks ; but in vain did the second mate beg of the 
girl to part with her mother’s body to him ; she only clasped 
it more tightly and declared that she would only part with 
her in death. In vain did Pastor Hehrmann endeavour to 
persuade the poor creature, and to induce her to give way to 
the reasonable and pressing request of the seaman ; she 
would not, and her wild and incoherent words led to fears of 
the worst for herself ; it was only when, exhausted by the 
exertions and the horrors of the night, she fell back in a 
swoon, that the sailors succeeded in taking from her the 
stiffened corpse, which was quickly, then and there, sewed in 
a large piece of sail cloth for more convenient transport on 
deck, and in order thence to be committed to the deep. 

The Captain, meanwhile, had made room in the cabin for 
Pastor Hehrmann’s family, and had the women at least, and 
their beds, removed thither. Mrs. Hehrmann, indeed, was 
more dead than alive, and she scarcely could have got 


28 


THE SEA VOYAGE. 


through such another night of terror. The Pastor himself no 
longer opposed this removal, for he could not help seeing that 
his family, although not brought up in luxury, yet never had 
been exposed to similar sufferings, and could hardly have 
borne a life surrounded by such scenes — but he himself 
would not forsake the steerage. 

There the scene was a shocking one, and pen or pencil 
would be too weak to attempt its description. 

The corpse was carried by the sailors towards the hatch- 
way, and there handed to those above, who laid it on a plank 
and bore it to the lee side of the vessel. 

In spite of the rolling of the ship, in spite of the constant 
washing of the waves across the deck, although none other of 
the passengers, no, not even the committee, came to his side, 
the worthy Pastor Hehrmann, amidst the howling of the storm 
and the dashing of the waves, spoke a brief service for the 
dead over the body of the poor old woman, for whom the wild 
waves, instead of the arms of an affectionate son, now waited. 
The corpse was then lifted on the edge of the bulwarks, 
which were gliding, with an arrow’s speed, through the foam- 
ing waters, and scarcely two feet elevated above them, (so 
inclined was the ship,) and in the next minute the sea in- 
gulfed its victim. 

But where, in this time of need and sorrow, was the com- 
mittee, who had pledged themselves to provide during the 
voyage for the well-being and comfort of the travellers who 
had confided themselves to their care ? 

Where was this committee, when all were calling for 
them, and wished for their help, or at all events their sympa- 
thy ? Alas, the poor committee itself lay in a most pitiable 
condition, sea-sick to a fearful degree, up and down about the 
cabin. The Captain could not be blamed if he swore a little, 
and declared that in whatever part of his cabin he got to, he 
could not help treading upon some member of this “ extensive” 
committee, who, deaf to every thing beside, only sighed and 
groaned, and called on death to relieve him from his misery. 

When the Captain told them of the case of death in the 
steerage, M. Yon Schwanthal, raising himself a little by a 
leg of a camp stool, dolefully exclaimed, “ Alas, who could 
the old woman be !” and sank back again exhausted, whilst 
the other members said nothing, but merely shook their heads 
gently and significantly. 


THE SEA VOYAGE. 


29 


Mid-day approached, and the cook’s call to dinner was 
heard, but few followed this call ; and again, scarce a third 
of these few executed their bold resolve, under such circum- 
stances, of eating, as well as fetching, their dinners. The 
brewer got as far as the hatchway ladder, where he remain- 
ed lying, and was only aroused by a dishful of rice, which, 
with its bearer, a journeyman tailor, came flying down on 
the top of him. But he bore no malice. Misfortune had 
made all equal ; they remained lying near each other ; and 
one of the sailors remarked, that “ that was the fattest piece 
of beef he had ever met with in the rice-soup.” 

The sea was majestic to behold — the gigantic waves 
which were excited, rolled and lifted up themselves, shaking 
off, when at their greatest height, the white foam from their 
crests, and then plunging down again, and with their power- 
ful shoulders pressing forward another, often a yet more 
gigantic mass of foaming ocean. 

Whole companies of large porpoises, rolled and tumbled 
about in the angry element, allowed themselves to be lifted 
up to the very summit of the waves, and then leapt, as in 
play, from the descending wave out into the dark blue flood, 
streaked and marbled with veins of white foam, constantly 
repeating their play anew till they disappeared behind the 
watery mountains, and were only visible again for a moment 
when the ship was raised on some gigantic wave, and could 
survey, as from a tower, the whole excited foaming and boil- 
ing desert of water. 

The storm lasted during three days ; the ship with her 
jib only set, for they had been obliged to take in the foresail, 
drove to leeward, the rudder was lashed, and the sailors upon 
duty on deck were obliged to secure themselves by ropes 
from being washed overboard by the sea, which struck over 
the ship with fearful violence. At last, on the fourth day, 
the storm seemed inclined to abate. It is true that the sea 
ran as high as before, for the monster could not pacify itself 
at once ; but a hope was now revived at least of more peace- 
able times, and that partially allayed the despair of the pas- 
sengers ; but it was not until the sixth day, when the sea 
had almost entirely abated, and the ship flew through it, 
leaning on one side, but no longer rocking backwards and 
forwards as before, when the sails could be set and the rud- 
der managed, that the sea-sick recovered, and even some in- 


30 


THE SEA VOYAGE. 


dividual members of the committee made their appearance on 
deck, pale, and with sunken cheeks and lack-lustre eyes. 

Mrs. Hehrmann improved rapidly in health during the 
last few days ; the sickness seemed to have exhausted its 
virulence upon her, and to have yielded to a stronger nature. 
Her improvement was almost visible ; and she passed nearly 
the whole day upon deck, where, attended by her daughters, 
and strengthened by the more generous diet of the cabin, she 
appeared to absorb new life-juices from the pure sea air. 

The poor girl, from whom, when in an unconscious state, 
they had taken the dead mother, did not fare so well. Her 
reason had, it is true, returned ; but she lay in her berth in 
a high fever. In the stillness of the night, her mind often 
wandered to her mother, and in her delirium she spoke words 
of comfort to her, and assured her that she would soon, very 
soon, see her son again. 

The women took the poor creature under their care, and 
nursed her as well as they could. 

But now the old grudge, which festered in the hearts of 
the steerage passengers towards the committee, began to 
ferment afresh : How much had not the committee promised, 
and how little, how very little had it performed ! Were they 
to bear it quietly, and without grumbling? Were they to 
look on, while they were neglected, and, perhaps, even 
laughed at behind their backs ? Were they to let these fel- 
lows carry themselves so high, while they suffered tortures 
which they had not before thought possible ? No, they 
would argue the matter at least ; no one could forbid that ; 
for as to acting, unfortunately they had themselves parted 
with their weapons for the purpose. For, before leaving Bre- 
men, where the separate articles of agreement were drawn 
up, all had by mutual contract, and by the deposit of a small 
fund in the hands of the treasurer, M. Siebert, sen., who was 
chosen by acclamation, obliged themselves, upon their arrival 
in their adopted country, to buy a certain number of acres of 
land, as many as their means would permit, in a district to 
be chosen by the committee, and, as already stated, to clear 
it and to cultivate it in common. For this purpose, there 
were not only agriculturists for the tillage itself, but they 
had also a smith, a wheelwright, brewer, tailor, shoemaker, 
glazier, cabinet-maker, weaver, and almost all other neces- 
sary artisans, so that, as observed by the committee, they 


THE SEA VOYAGE. 


31 


were assured against accident, and dependent upon no- 
body. 

They had even provided themselves with tools ; and 
although the Captain before starting, warned them against 
carrying over German utensils and tools, and indeed in gen- 
eral, as he expressed it, “ from carrying over German cus- 
toms, and German iron, and little German silver,” yet neither 
the committee nor the rest could be brought to see it in 
this light, and some seventy hundredweight of agricultural 
and other implements — such as axes, hatchets, saws, chains, 
ploughs, scythes, and even carts and wagons, had been got 
on board and brought across. The freight on board ship, it 
is true, was not very high, and although the captain here 
again called their attention to the expensive carriage to their 
place of settlement in America, yet all the members of the 
committee, with the exception of the Pastor Hehrmann, who 
was inclined to believe in the reasoning of the old seaman, 
had read too much about America, and the manners and 
usages there, not to be aware that tools were very dear in 
the interior, and even that in certain places they were not to 
be had ; it is true that they did not exactly know whether 
they should alight upon those certain places ; but they thought 
that they ought to provide for the worst, since it was possible 
that they might. The great mass cordially approved of this ; 
indeed, most of the emigrants could not imagine how they 
could work with tools of a different construction from those 
to which they had been accustomed from infancy upwards, 
and in this particular were well satisfied with their com- 
mittee. 

The expense of the passage and of the land journey to their 
ultimate destination was to be defrayed out of the deposited 
money, and then the residue was to be applied, so far as it 
would extend, in the purchase of land, and the committee un- 
dertook to subscribe such funds as might be required for any 
further needful expenses themselves. But the committee were 
especially to see that a healthy and good tract of land was 
selected, and that it should be conveyed and assured to them 
in due form as their sole property ; for there was not one of 
the party but had heard of the frequent occurrence of frauds 
there, and who did not fear them ; that, then, every thing 
should be divided and allotted, according to right and justice, 
as well labour as property ; and it was one of the chief condi- 


32 


THE SEA VOYAGE. 


tions — and indeed one that was of course — that the committee 
were, generally, not only in their adopted country, but on the 
voyage out, to keep in view the interests of the members who 
had confided in them, to protect and to provide for them. 

Mr. Becher for this purpose had made an extraordinary 
address to the meeting, at the Hull Arms, in Bremen, with 
which all were particularly pleased, if for no other cause, be- 
cause he addressed them invariably as “Citizens;” one ex- 
pressed his opinion, before they went on board, that never 
before had any one made such a speech to them. They con- 
fided implicitly in the committee ; but this concord received a 
severe shock from the complete neglect with which the poorer 
portion of the emigrants were treated even on board ship ; 
sea-sickness, it is true, quieted their minds for a time ; but 
the storm which had left the ocean, passed into the hearts of 
the steerage passengers, and they would not admit the pro- 
priety of the committee eating their pudding while they got 
only bacon and split peas. 

It might be borne, the brewer considered, if they did not 
carry the savoury dishes from under their very noses, but 
that it was just as if they did it on purpose to make game of 
them. The steward, or cabin attendant, namely, was obliged 
to pass through amongst them, every time that he carried 
the dinner into the cabin, and the smell of the roast meat and 
pastry had contributed not a little to raise their bile against 
the committee. 

It happened, one morning when Pastor Hehrmann (who 
otherwise always quieted the dissatisfied by his reasonable 
representations — remedied that which he himself considered 
wrong — and kept the disturbers of the peace in order,) was 
seated beside his family, near the wheel, and was gazing at 
the broad and sunny expanse, dotted here and there with a 
distant sail, that the revolt grew apace, and the good people 
did, as most others in their place w T ould have done — they 
resolved to revolt, if they did not actually do it. 

But, in order to bring their grievances before those who 
were to blame, they agreed to send deputies to the committee 
to represent to the latter the irregularity of their proceedings ; 
to request a change ; and to get the promise, which they had 
formerly made, renewed by them, or otherwise to demand 
the return of the deposits, so that each of them might again 
do as they liked. 


THE SEA VOYAGE. 


33 


This last point, in particular, found many supporters, 
and so far all was well ; but the little circumstance re- 
mained — who was to say all this to the committee ? 

Unquestionably the tailor had the best tongue, but he 
was only a journeyman. One of them — it was the brewer — 
therefore proposed Werner, and all immediately concurred 
in the choice. 

As he was not present, they sent every where in search 
of him, to fetch him, and to communicate the resolution to 
him. 

But he was sitting up aloft, gazing dreamily, not at the 
wide rolling sea, not at the distant ships that steered past 
with their sunny sails, not at the sea-mews or the Mother 
Carey’s chickens, that were wantoning about the Hoffnung, 
sometimes skimming over the surface of the splashing waters, 
as if the top of each wave must reach the bold creatures and 
drag them down — sometimes diving with the quickness of 
lightning into the flood, as bright as crystal, and coming to 
the surface again loaded with their booty ; no, he gazed at 
the steerer, who, wheel in hand, was looking earnestly, first 
at the compass, then at the top-gallant sails, to see that they 
caught* the wind fully. 

And who was this helmsman ? — some rough strong figure, 
in a coarse blue jacket and Scotch bonnet — some bearded 
physiognomy, with dark brows and sunburnt features ? No ; 
he wore a gay-coloured light dress, a light-blue silk handker- 
chief, loosely slung round the white neck, dark curls, lifted 
by the soft south wind and fluttering round the dear rosy face 
— in short, it was Pastor Hehrmann’s elder little daughter, 
Bertha — who was here learning to steer the ship from the 
chief mate, and indeed showed herself so teachable, that the 
grave man let her hold the helm herself and stood looking on, 
and smiling when the ship would not immediately answer 
the rudder, and she leaned with all her strength on the spokes ; 
and then, when she saw her come round and follow the pre- 
scribed track, merrily shook the long flowing curls from her 
face ; perhaps, also, at the same time, she stole a shy, pleased 
glance upwards— of course merely to observe the sails. 

Thrice already had a sailor, dispatched by the brewer, 
been in the top, and pressingly requested Werner to come 
below, before he obeyed the call ; and then, discontented 
and grumbling at being obliged to quit his perch, slid down 

3 


34 


THE SEA VOYAGE. 


a rope. Hardly had he arrived in the steerage before all 
thronged round him, and twenty at once tried to make him 
comprehend a story which he could not understand from any 
of them — at last, he found out what was passing, and what 
was wanted of him. However, he briefly declined the ho- 
nourable offer, as he called it, giving as his sole reason for 
so doing, that he did not belong to the association formed in 
Bremen, and consequently had no right to act as its mouth- 
piece ; that he could not interfere with what the committee 
might commit or omit ; and that if he were to do so, they 
would merely have to ask him what business it was of his, 
and he should be silenced. He thanked them in brief and 
friendly words for their confidence, and quickly climbed 
aloft again. Now good counsel was scarce, and they really 
knew not whom to choose. 

“ Well, then/’ said one of the peasants at last, “ I’ll go 
myself ; what need is there for fine speeches? I’ll tell them 
my mind, and what we have agreed upon.” 

“ That’s right, Schmidt,” all the others echoed. “ You 
go ; you know what you’re about, and you’ll tell them what 
they ought to be told.” 

No sooner said than done. Schmidt, accompanied by 
the brewer and the shoemaker, took his departure with 
prompt and firm step ; had himself announced to the Captain 
by a sailor. He came to them immediately ; but on hearing 
what they wanted, referred them to the cabin, where the 
whole of the committee, with the exception of Pastor Hehr- 
man, were quietly playing at whist. 

The cabin of the Hoffnung was very prettily arranged ; 
every thing was of mahogany, the tables of lighter coloured 
wood, and the sides surmounted by brass edging ; the little 
windows were hung with pink curtains, and two large mas- 
sive mirrors were let into the sides, below which were soft 
red-coloured sofas. 

Poor Schmidt felt quite nervous on entering this splendid 
cabin, and he began to stammer a part of his speech, when 
the elder Siebert, who observed his embarrassment, and per- 
haps had some guess of what brought the people there, with 
a patronizing air spoke to him, and called him, “ My good 
man.” 

This brought old Schmidt round directly ; his bile was 
raised, and he delivered all that he had got to say in a 


THE SEA VOYAGE. 


35 


straightforward manner ; pointed out to the several members 
their promises, and required their performance, or else the 
return of the money which was in their hands. 

Pastor Hehrmann, who had followed them below, en- 
deavoured to speak to him in a friendly spirit, but Schmidt 
turned sulkily away, and said, “ Oh, 1 know very well that 
you mean well, but still the others do as they like.” 

“ My dear Mr. Schmidt,” Mr. Becher now began, “you 
will pardon me if I call your attention to one or two little 
errors in your ideas. You reproach us with being careless 
of your welfare ; that we are luxuriating here while you are 
suffering ; that we have every convenience in the world, as 
you were pleased to express yourself, while you laid in the 
steerage ; that we looked down upon you, and intended to 
tread you and your honoured friends — allow me, if you please 
— under foot. But tell me, my dear Mr. Schmidt, how have 
we deserved these accusations? What have we done to 
arouse your anger? — let me conclude, I beg. We have 
taken up our abode here in the cabin, instead of in the steer- 
age with- you ; but was not that for your good rather than for 
our own ? Are there not quite people enough already in that 
narrow space, without us ? and don’t we pay our own hard 
cash for those conveniences which we enjoy here ? 

“ You reproach us with neglecting you ! you must blame 
the Captain for that. The rules of the ship are strict ; the 
steerage passengers are not allowed in the cabin, and as little 
are the cabin passengers allowed in the steerage ! Do you 
require greater equality ? You say that we feast here while 
you starve. Have you not a supply of good healthy food in 
the steerage ? — meat every day, and plenty of vegetables ? 
coffee in the morniag, tea in the evening, good butter and 
ship’s bread, even a pudding on Sundays, with plums and 
syrup ? Do you call that starving ? or is the diet bad, eh ?” 

The three deputies shook their heads with one accord. 

“ Well, what more have we,” the orator continued, “ ex- 
cept what we pay dearly for ? We want to tread you under 
foot ! My dear Mr. Schmidt, how have we deserved this 
accusation ? What has happened that could make you 
believe such a thing ? No ; we respect your rights, we 
feel that we are all only men ; men, the work of the same 
Creator, and made after his image, and that we are bound 
for one adopted country on a single and mutual object. 


36 


THE SEA VOYAGE. 


Gentlemen, I feel myself honoured, in being your equal, to 
stand as an equal to such worthy men, and I believe that I 
may pledge myself for all my fellow committee-men to these 
sentiments.” 

A low murmur of assent was the reply. Pastor Hehr- 
mann had placed himself at the window, and was looking out 
at the waves. 

“I see,” continued Mr. Becher, following up his advan- 
tage, “ you feel the truth of what I have just said ; but if you 
consider us selfish, bad men — if you think that we are capa- 
ble of deceiving or taking advantage of you — if you believe 
that our intentions are not pure and good — well, there stands 
Mr. Siebert — he will cheerfully repay the sums which are 
in his hands, but at the same time with deep regret that you, 
my worthy countrymen, should have entertained distrust 
towards him and us.” 

Mr. Becher ceased, and looked down in a melancholy 
manner. Honest Schmidt, however, who had expected pride 
and haughtiness, and was ready to meet them, had been by 
no means prepared to be spoken to and received with so much 
civility ; and being himself an honest, upright man, not readily 
suspicious of others, he gave Mr. Becher good-heartedly his 
hand, which that gentleman pressed and shook warmly, and 
Schmidt assured the committee that they must not take it 
amiss ; that he was a little unpolished and rough, but meant 
well ; and that as he and his friends saw that the committee 
were not proud, and intended to perform what they had 
promised, there existed no longer any reason why they 
should ask for a return of their money, and he would there- 
fore go and tell the rest in the steerage that every thing was 
settled, and that they had nothing to fear. 

The three deputies then retired, amidst mutual assurances 
of friendship. Mr. Becher followed them with his eye until 
they passed up stairs, and had disappeared above ; he then 
turned round, and, embracing his friend Siebert, assured 
him, with an affected tone (imitating Schmidt’s voice), that 
they were all free and equal as the Almighty had created 
them, and that they would hold together through trouble and 
in death. 

Mr. Von Schwanthal, meanwhile, with a very long face, 
shuffled the cards again and again, and assured these two, 
who laughed heartily, that, it was no joking matter ; that the 


THE SEA VOYAGE. 


37 


people were in earnest, and were not altogether wrong ; that 
for his own part, however, he did not exactly see how they 
were to arrange matters in America ; for, after all, such a 
perfect equality was not easily adopted. 

“ And why not V’ Pastor Hehrmann interrupted him. 
“ If we are all animated by strong and public-spirited feel- 
ings ; if we all resolve only to act in such a manner that the 
whole may prosper ; if we lay aside all petty, personal ob- 
jects ; if we ” 

“ But, my dear Mr. Pastor, we want to play whist,” 
young Siebert interrupted him, laughing. “ Let us first 
get to this land of promise, and all that will follow as of 
course.” 

“ Well, I’m content,” said Mr. Von Schwanthal, sighing, 
and handing the cards to be cut ; “ I shall be much pleased if 
all goes well.” 

Pastor Hehrmann returned upon deck to his family, 
whilst Becher, Von Schwanthal, and the two Sieberts con- 
tinued their game. But Herbold walked up and down the 
cabin, with his hands crossed behind him, and wearing a 
very thoughtful countenance ; and he whistled so loud that 
at last Becher begged him, for Heaven’s sake, to leave off*. 

In the steerage, meanwhile, all seemed to be pacified 
again ; the fact that Mr. Becher had offered to return them 
their money left no doubt as to his sincerity ; and as to the 
other points, they were content to assent to them ; all they 
wanted was, to have their equality acknowledged, and that 
the committee should see that they would not “ put up ” with 
any thing. 

The wind blew pretty favourably from the south-south- 
west, and the ship flew along bravely, with all sails set, 
through the slightly ruffled waves. They were now off the 
so-called Bank of Newfoundland, and were approaching 
nearer and nearer to the American continent : the captain 
even had the lead sounded, but without as yet finding bottom. 
A glowing heat lay upon the water, and the burning sun 
shone almost perpendicularly upon the travellers, who felt 
more and more the continued monotony of the voyage. 

Although squabbles occurred daily in the steerage, yet, 
in general, peace was easily restored ; the spirits were at 
res t — almost too much at rest ; for a portion of the Emi- 
grants, especially the Oldenburghers, lay so immovably in 


38 


THE SEA VOYAGE. 


their berths all day, that there was no getting any fresh, 
healthy air below. Werner remained the whole day through 
upon deck, for he could not, as he declared, endure the stifling 
atmosphere below ; and almost all the women complained 
bitterly of the want of pure air in their sleeping places. 
Pastor Hehrmann first tried to rouse these “ immovables,” 
but in vain ; then came Becher, who put to them a number 
of cases, showing the evil consequences of so much rest, as 
he called it. It was in vain. Even Siebert tried his luck, 
with the same want of success. The good folks lay still, and 
asserted quietly, “ That they were quite comfortable — and 
that those who were not so, might go above ; that they com- 
pelled no one to remain below, and could not understand why 
they should be compelled to go on deck.” In fact, they re- 
mained where they were ; and the committee, at their wit’s 
end, turned at last to the Captain — he promised a remedy. 

At last, one fine morning, when the sun was shining 
warmly and refreshingly on deck, he had the idlers asked 
once more to come on deck, and as the summons was un- 
heeded, the word of command was given down both hatch- 
ways, “ All on deck ! — all on deck !” 

This, too, was unavailing ; it had been tried several times 
already. But, when all the well-disposed had obeyed, and 
women and children had left the between-decks, several 
sailors simultaneously descended the two hatchways, four of 
them provided with pots of tar and red hot irons, and two 
with pans of sulphur. When the latter had ignited their brim- 
stone the others dipped their irons in the tar, and such a 
vapour immediately filled the hold, that the sailors, familiar 
as they were with climbing up and down, could scarce find 
their way into the open air, where they were received with 
hurrahs by the Emigrants. 

Meanwhile, it fared very ill with the poor “ immovables,” 
who tried in vain to find their way to the hatchways ; they 
could neither find them nor their way back to their berths, 
but were obliged to wrap their jackets round their heads, and 
throw themselves on the ground, there, half suffocated, to 
await the drawing off of the dreadful smoke. But the remedy 
was effectual — for on the following morning, when the voices 
of the two sailors were heard at the hatchways, not one 
passenger was missing from on deck. 

All had now recovered — even the poor girl had got better 


THE SEA VOYAGE. 


39 


under the careful nursing of the women, assisted by some 
medicines ordered by Werner, and she met with every as- 
sistance and sympathy which she could expect, ur^der such 
circumstances and in such a position. 

But the longed-for coast now drew nearer and nearer, and 
the passengers, by this time grown impatient, expected daily 
to see the wished-for shore rise out of the blue distance ; the 
lead had been twice successfully cast, and the depth found 
announced the neighbourhood of the coast. 

One morning, the glad cry of “ Land ! land !” resounded 
in their ears, and before the eyes of those who were half 
awake could distinguish the low blue stripe, almost fading 
in the horizon, and stretching out towards the north-west, a 
charming little cutter shot towards them, with the speed of 
an arrow, through the waves ; the flag of the United States, 
the stars and stripes, fluttered at the mast, and in a few 
minutes more the pilot, a tall, haggard-looking man, in a 
black dress coat, dazzling white linen, and a large gold 
watch-chain, sprang, with a bound, up the ship’s side. 

With wonder, bordering upon awe, the steerage passen- 
gers gazed at the pilot, who was no sooner on board than 
he took upon himself the complete command of the ship, 
and ordered the sailors about as though he had made the 
whole voyage out with them. He was the first actual 
living American whom they had seen, and spoke real Eng- 
lish. 

There remained, however, but short time for astonish- 
ment, for the wind was favourable, and the Captain announced 
that they should cast anchor that very evening. Hereupon 
every one had a variety of little matters to look after and get 
in order, and most of them scarcely cast another glance 
upon either the pilot or the land. 

The magnificent coast stood out more clearly and distinctly 
every minute ; at first, the mere outline of the hills was 
discernible, and certain hollows and promontories — then 
darker and lighter spots could be distinguished — the eye was 
able to separate field from woodland. There a house started 
up — is it, perhaps, some farm, inhabited by Germans ? Over 
yonder, there stands some single trees, and farther to the 
right — yes — something moves : it is a flock, there are living 
creatures on the shore, and the searching gaze might soon 
detect men — human beings — who moved backwards and for- 


40 


THE SEA VOYAGE. 


wards, and it soon became a question of indescribable inter- 
est whether that man yonder, to the right of the projecting 
tree, and,, to the left of the red roof, wore — a hat or a cap! 
Every trifle was narrowly examined, and it was only when 
they came nearer and nearer, and new objects were con- 
stantly crowding forward into notice, that they turned their 
attention to the grandeur of the whole scenery. 

It was a delightful view. That beautiful bay, with its 
meadows and its woods, fields and buildings, its forts and its 
many ships, bathed in the magic of a new, unknown, and long- 
desired country. None of the Emigrants knew yet the many 
cares and privations which, perhaps, awaited them there. 
None saw in the splendid landscape spread out before them, 
all the want, all the sorrow, that reign among the indwellers 
of this, as of every other country ; they saw only the beautiful 
sparkling shell, and concluded that the kernel must of course 
be good. 

Towards evening, the heavy anchor rolled into the deep, 
and a little boat, bearing several medical men, and with a 
yellow flag flying, came up to them, The doctors examined 
the state of health of the passengers, and pronounced it sat- 
isfactory. 

Still, the “ HofFnung” remained this night without further 
communication with the shore, and it was not until the fol- 
lowing morning that a little coasting vessel, with two schooner 
sails, came alongside, and took the steerage passengers on 
board, to conduct them to the Quarantine Buildings, where 
their luggage was to be examined, and they themselves were 
to remain for twenty-four hours longer. 

Here, again, their concord was near being disturbed ; for 
the committee remained on board. Werner, however, pacified 
them, by the assurance that it could not be helped, for that 
they dared not even go on shore with them — that such was 
the regulation ; but they would now shortly set foot on land, 
and every distinction would cease. 

This consoled the people ; they assisted to carry over their 
things to the Quarantine House, and were soon busily engaged 
studying the thousands of names which former emigrants had 
written in pencil upon the rough-hewn timbers of which 
the building was composed. Many a one found there the 
name of some old acquaintance, and hastened to incorporate 
his own in the general register. Pencils were in demand. 


r 


THE SEA VOYAGE. 


41 


But how many elegant verses, gnawed by the tooth of 
Time, passed into decay here in retirement ! how many ef- 
fusions of a pure poetical frenzy, seizing on the poor exile 
torn from his home to this foreign, friendless shore, disappear- 
ed, without a trace, among the mass of names ! Werner 
copied some of them in his pocket book — 

“ Now we’ll all sing Hallelujah, 

For we are in America.” 

Another — 

“ For all that we’ve suffered I don’t care one button, 

Now that we’ve plenty of fresh beef and mutton !” 

Although the Quarantine House was distant a few hundred 
yards only from the shore, (it was built like an island in the 
water.) yet the Emigrants had hitherto in vain asked for per- 
mission to go across. At last some boats came over, and the 
cheerful cry, “ Ashore ! ashore !” resounded from lip to lip. 

All, however, did not avail themselves of the permission ; 
some would not leave their things, which stood there unpro- 
tected ; others considered the fare demanded higher than suit- 
ed their views ; in short, there might be about fifteen, who, 
jumping joyously into the boat, were rowed ashore to their 
adopted country, whose soil they were now about to set toot 
on for the first time. 

And now, no doubt, they fell down and kissed the longed- 
for land, hugged the trees, shook the Americans as their new 
brothers heartily by the hand, embraced them, and in their 
turn were received by these latter equally cordially and af- 
fectionately, and as newly acquired brethren and fellow 
citizens, who had just been endowed with sacred Liberty ! 

No ; they inquired for the nearest tavern, where some 
fresh bread, cheese, and beer, were to be had, and were laugh- 
ed at by the Americans on account of their speech and their 
costume. But they found what they were looking for, and 
without bestowing a single glance at the town, which they 
said they should see enough of by and by, they stormed into 
the public room of the inn with joyful haste, “ in order to 
get the salt taste out of their mouths,” as the brewer ex- 
pressed it. 

Their entrance was characteristic. The brewer stepped 
up to the bar, and in a deep, sonorous voice pronounced the 
single word “ Beer,” but with such emphasis, with such 

3 * 


42 


THE SEA VOYAGE. 


feeling, with such infinite longing, that one could see at a 
glance what the man had suffered since he had been deprived 
of its enjoyment. He knew besides that the same word sig- 
nified beer in English as in his own language, and, indeed, 
had already intimated, on board ship, his conviction that in 
all languages it must be called “ Beer,” for that it could not 
be expressed otherwise. 

Several of the passengers had zealous’y studied English 
aboard ship; the tailor had been particularly industrious in 
this respect, and he now determined to make a trial of his 
acquirements, as he naturally supposed himself to be sur- 
rounded by Englishmen, or rather by persons who spoke 
nothing but English. With a face of great importance, 
therefore, he walked up to the bar, and asked loudly, and, as 
he supposed, distinctly, for a “ A porschen hemm,” (a por- 
tion or plateful of ham.) 

He was taken aback very much by the simple answer of 
the hostess, who, in broad German, smacking a good deal 
of the Swabian twang, asked him, for Heaven’s sake, to 
speak German, for she understood that much better than his 
English. 

The passengers were not a little pleased to meet with a 
countrywoman, who was already in America, and the even- 
ing passed with incredible swiftness, amidst full bowls, and 
good, strengthening, and long-missed food. 

Werner had remained but a short time beside them, and 
had gone and seated himself on the bench, gazing dreamily 
out upon the wide sea that had borne him thither. Long and 
steadfastly did his eye rest upon the proud ship whose red- 
and-white chequered flag fluttered in the fresh wind, resting 
upon the waters with sails taken in, like some wearied bird, 
and slightly rocked by the gentle heaving waves. Yonder 
structure contained all to which his heart was attached, and 
he felt almost impelled to swim across and climb up its side 
in infinite longing. 

He still sat there when deep night had sunk upon the 
misty expanse of waters, and the hull of the ship and the 
water on which it rested disappeared in the dull darkness ; 
the sharp line of the masts alone stood out in relief against 
the lighter horizon, in which many a friendly star glanced 
through the driving clouds, when he thought that he heard 
something move in the bushes behind him — he looked round, 


THE SEA VOYAGE. 


43 


he listened — all was quiet — only the lights shone from out 
the not distant houses, and human voices sounded from them 
over towards him. 

He arose ; it began to grow cool ; the night air was 
damp ; he cast but another glance towards the peaceful ship, 
from whose cabin also a light now shone out, and turned to- 
wards the neighbouring inn, when two dark figures rushed 
upon him, and at the same instant a blow from a stick, nar- 
rowly missing his temples, at which it was aimed, descended 
upon him. ✓ 

“ Help !” cried he, seizing one of his aggressors, who he 
now saw were negroes, by the throat ; but a second better 
directed blow descended with fearful force upon his forehead, 
protected only by a thin cap ; his senses left him, and he 
sank down unconscious. 

How long he might have lain there he knew not ; when 
he came to himself again he found himself in the midst of 
his travelling companions in the Quarantine-house, and the 
poor girl whom he had healed, and the woman whose child 
he had saved, supporting his head and bathing his wounds. 

He gazed around in astonishment, for in fact he did not 
at once discover where he was, and although ^wake, he' 
thought he must be dreaming, when, looking up, he saw the 
room in which he was, from the roof of which, consisting of 
rough-hewn beams, a lantern was suspended, throwing a 
dim, indistinct light around — and he heard the words and 
the murmur of voices around him. But the women had 
observed his waking, and their cheerful call immediately 
brought all the emigrants round the couch of the sufferer. 

A hundred questions were directed to him simultaneously, 
and in vain did he ask himself for an explanation of what 
had taken place. It was some time before the tumult was 
allayed, and he learnt that his cry for assistance had fortu- 
nately been heard, and, as such attacks had occasionally 
been made in that quarter before, it had been attended to. 

The scoundrels, disturbed by the men who hurried to- 
wards them, had robbed him of nothing besides his purse. 
His pocket-book, which he carried in a coat-pocket behind, 
and which contained the whole of his little stock of money, 
had, fortunately, thanks to their speedy assistance, escaped. 

With his purse, he might have lost, according to his 
statement, some five or six dollars. But all attempts to over- 


44 


THE SEA VOYAGE. 


take the robbers had proved vain ; under cover of the night, 
they had reached the neighbouring woods, and were secured 
by them from further pursuit. 

Werner soon recovered, and — with a cool bandage round 
the wound received from the bludgeon — slept throughout the 
night softly and tranquilly. 

On the following morning a little boat carried him and 
two other steerage passengers to the steamboat, which was 
at hand, and merrily getting the steam up to start from Sta- 
ten Island for New York ; but scarcely had he put foot upon 
its deck, before he 'met the eyes of Bertha, who, standing by 
her sister’s side, had not noticed his arrival, until she caught 
sight of his pale face and white handkerchief tied round his 
head. 

The blood left her cheeks, as she asked him, in a tremu- 
lous voice, what had happened ; but, before he could reply, 
he felt the hand of Pastor Hehrmann on his shoulder, who 
heartily welcomed him, it is true, but also started back 
on seeing his pale face. Werner had to relate what had 
occurred, and Bertha listened with palpitating heart and 
half-opened lips. 

The remaining members of the committee now joined 
them, and pitied young Werner, heartily. Becher was of 
opinion that he had received a “ striking ” proof of the evil 
disposition of the negroes. 

At last, after the expiration of about half an hour, the 
steamer, passing rapidly through a number of small craft 
and vessels, went on its course towards the immense city of 
New York, which, with its mass of houses, surrounded by a 
forest of masts, spread itself out before them. 

The elder Siebert, who had formerly lived four years in 
the United States, undertook the care of their luggage, and 
gave directions to some carters, whose numbers he took, and 
then passed on, leading the way, with his travelling compa- 
nions, through the, to him, familiar streets, towards Hudson- 
street, where they had obtained the address of a good French 
boarding-house ; for, as Siebert assured them, there were 
few good German inns in New York, although their number 
extended to several hundreds. 

Their sea voyage was thus happily accomplished, and 
they now only awaited the arrival of the rest of their fellow- 
passengers, which was to take place on the following day, in 


A WEEK IN NEW YORK. 


45 


order to discuss and execute their plans for the further jour- 
ney, as all were agreed that too long a stay in New York 
was to be avoided — first, on account of the loss of time, and, 
secondly of the considerable expense. 

Mr. Siebert promised to make inquiries forthwith as to 
the most advantageous neighbourhood for a settlement, and 
to communicate the information to the committee. 


CHAPTER II. 

A WEEK IN NEW YORK. 

Hotly and oppressively did the sun shine down upon the 
mirror-like surface of Staten Island Bay, the next day, when 
the boat, containing the steerage passengers of the Hoffnung, 
reached the quay at New York, and threw its ropes ashore. 
The sailors had not had time to make fast before a complete 
flood of persons pressed forward from every side from which 
it was possible to get upon deck, and crowded every corner 
and gangway of the vessel. 

A great number of those who jumped on board to wel- 
come the fresh-comers to their new home appeared to be 
actuated, not by curiosity only, but also by zeal to make 
themselves useful, and without looking round they seized 
upon boxes and chests, and seemed inclined to empty the 
whole vessel. 

“ Halloo there ! where are you off to with that chest,” cried 
the brewer, seizing at the same time the above-mentioned 
article of luggage with both hands, and dragging it from the 
shoulders of a sturdy negro, who was just about to step on 
shore with it. 

The black, it is true, explained his intentions in few 
^vords, but as the brewer unfortunately could not understand 
a syllable of what he was saying, he merely shook his head, 
and carried back his chest to the remainder of his luggage. 
The same sort of thing occurred to all the rest, until at last 
the master of the boat interfered, drove the intruders back, 
and the few seamen on board, with the willing assistance of 
the Germans themselves, got the whole of the passengers’ 


46 


A WEEK IN NEW YORK. 


things on shore, and several of the emigrants kept watch by 
them. This last measure seemed a very necessary one, for, 
as carrion vultures surround a dying animal, so did carters, 
black and white, surround the piled-up boxes, impatiently 
waiting the moment when each of them might carry off his 
load. 

Pastor Hehrmann, the elder Siebert, and Mr. Becher, now 
joined them, and after a hearty shaking of hands with their 
fellow travellers on the so longed-for terra firma, took counsel 
how best to lodge them properly, since they could not well 
all find room together in one tavern. 

Many had brought with them the addresses of “ good ” 
German inns in New York, obtained through acquaintances 
or relations who had formerly sojourned at them, and found 
them comfortable. Others were directed to a so-called 
“ German Boarding House ” in Pearl-street, and a large 
number, including nearly all the Oldenburghers, determined 
to remain on the quay, where they saw three German pub- 
lic-houses side by side, as well to have a view of the shipping 
as to save the money required for the removal of their lug- 
gage, which they at once got on their own shoulders, and 
carried across into the “ Schweitzer’s Heimat,” (the Swit- 
zer’s Home.) 

Siebert advised them not to take up their quarters at these 
waterside public-houses, but they had made up their minds ; 
they listened, it is true, patiently to his representations and 
arguments, but still went and did as they wished. 

Mr. Siebert now exhorted each of them to be careful in 
noting accurately the number of the cart which carried his 
property, so that, in the event of their being separated from 
it, they might not lose their little all, and he then started, 
with a portion of his fellow travellers, towards the boarding- 
house, whilst several two-wheeled carts, with their baggage, 
accompanied them. 

In less than two hours the whole company was scattered ; 
and we will now follow the Oldenburghers for a moment, 
who, persecuted by the jokes and jeers of the carters plying 
on the quay, carried their heavy chests into the inn, in front 
of which hung a gaudy sign, intended to represent a Swiss 
landscape, with the superscription “ Schweitzer’s Heimat.” 

The landlord, who was a fat man, and who might have 
passed for a good-natured looking fellow, had it not been for 


A WEEK IN NEW YORK. 


47 


a slight cast in his eye, met them at the door, and called to 
them, in a not-to-be-mistaken Swiss dialect, to carry their 
things up into the large saloon. 

The thing was sooner said than done — for it was no easy 
matter to get the colossal boxes and chests up the narrow and 
steep staircase. However, they succeeded at last, and found 
themselves in a very large roomy apartment, which might 
claim the title of a “ saloon,” and contained about twenty 
double beds, while beside these, in two long rows, there stood 
a number of boxes and bags. Immediately afterwards, their 
host followed, and indicated a particular corner for their 
luggage. 

“ Are there more people to sleep here, then ?” inquired 
one of the Oldenburghers, who began, perhaps, to think the 
thing rather uncomfortable. 

“ Yes,” replied our host, “ we are a little crowded for the 
moment, but to-morrow many of them are going away, and 
if you will only make yourselves comfortable for to-night, 
the matter can be arranged.” 

“ And two have to sleep in one bed ?” asked another. 

“ It might happen,” replied the landlord, “ that we might 
be compelled to accommodate three in some of them ; it’s 
only for one night, and you are not spoiled — on board ship, 
things are worse, I know ;” he laughed, and descended the 
steep stairs. 

“Yes, that’s true enough — on board ship it’s worse still. 
But upon my word, I don’t see why on that account it should 
not be otherwise here in New York.” 

The others comforted him with “ Well, it’s for one night 
only !” and easily pacified, they walked down to the bar- 
room, where a kind of barman, half sailor, half waiter, stood 
behind a counter covered with unwashed glasses, and filled 
liquors for the guests out of pitchers and bottles. 

Tobacco smoke and noise filled the room, and the sound 
of curses and laughter, of violence and hallooing, met them 
at their entrance. They called for a can of cider, it is true, 
in an unoccupied corner — but they did not feel at home or 
comfortable there, and determined, at last, to go and have a 
look at New York. 

Meanwhile, Mr. Siebert had led his protegees to a some- 
what more decent and better house ; and the brewer, the 
little tailor, the shoemaker, and old Schmidt, the quondam 


48 


A WEEK IN NEW YORK. 


ambassador to the committee, took a room together. But 
the shoemaker was in despair, for one of his chests, contain- 
ing all the tools of his trade, and many other things, was no- 
where to be found. He had last seen it upon the shoulders 
of a negro, who was walking behind the cart containing the 
other luggage, but distracted by the gaudily-ornamented 
shops, he had lost sight of the black suddenly, and neither 
him nor the chest did he ever see again. 

All inquiry was in vain, and he was now convinced how 
much reason Mr. Siebert had to recommend particular atten- 
tion to their property. 

The others felt themselves the more comfortable, and the 
little tailor declared it was worth while to travel to America, 
if fit were only to look at the streets and the people. Soon 
afterwards they were summoned to dinner, and in the large 
room of the house they found a long table spread, at which 
all of them, without distinction of rank, took their seats, and 
were allowed to torture their teeth with some very tough 
beef. 

The dinner was not particularly good ; but a glass of 
cider, which they got with it, consoled them, and a stroll 
through the town was agreed upon by all the Germans im- 
mediately after dinner. The shoemaker alone remained be- 
hind, in order to prepare a pot of his new expeditious black- 
ing, with which he hoped to earn something, and to reim- 
burse himself somewhat for the loss of his chest. 

But what splendour, exceeding any thing they had imag- 
ined, met their eyes in the broad and handsome streets which 
they wandered through ; what gold, and silver, and costly 
stuffs, gleamed in all the windows and shops ; they could not 
gaze enough, and stopped continually at newly-discovered 
beauties with fresh astonishment. But they were particu- 
larly delighted with the number of small two-wheeled trucks, 
drawn about the streets by men, full of the finest pine-apples, 
cocoa-nuts, and oranges ; and no sooner did the brewer learn 
that a pine-apple (which, in Germany, as he had heard, 
would cost a couple of dollars) might be bought here for as 
many groats, than he bargained for a whole armfull ; the 
others were not behindhand, and they filled the vacuum 
which the dinner had left in their stomachs with fruit. 

The little tailor, on the other hand, could not get over 
his astonishment at the number of clothes-shops, for in some 


A WEEK IN NEW YORK. 


49 


streets every third house seemed to be a tailor’s workshop ; 
when stopping suddenly before one of these, as if petrified, 
he stared at a small shield, upon which there was this no- 
tice, both in English and German, “Five hundred Journey- 
men wanted.” 

“ Halloo !” he cried, “ that’s what I call a master. But 
by this and by that, he must pay good wages, if he can em- 
ploy so many people ! Hark ye, I’ll go in and try.” 

“ What are you going to be at inside, there, Meier ?” 
asked Schmidt, of the tailor ; “ haven’t you engaged to go 
with us, and actually paid for your share of the new farm ?” 

“ Oh, that be hanged !” said the tailor ; “ if I could 
get work at such a master’s, I should be much better off.” 

“ That don’t signify,” said the brewer, “ your word is 
your word, and you must come with us ! Who else is to sew 
all our clothes ?” 

“ Well,” said the tailor, “ but if brilliant prospects should 
present themselves to me here, the committee would surely 
allow me to accept them ; for to remain all one’s life a poor 
journeyman tailor ” 

“ All that don’t matter,” replied the brewer, “ you’ve paid 
your deposit, and go you must ! This was the object of having 
all the articles written down, in order that, afterwards, nobody 
might do as they pleased.” 

“At all events, J ’ll ask the question,” cried the little fel- 
low, quickly ; “ a question can’t hurt, and perhaps it may be 
of use hereafter.” 

With these words he walked in, accompanied by the others, 
who were curious to see the interior of such a shop, and he 
was not a little astonished to find the master a German, and 
moreover an Israelite, who in very polite terms asked him 
what he wanted, and what articles he would allow him to 
show him ? 

“ Oh !” said the little man, rather abashed ; “ I’m only a 
tailor — and — should like to inquire after work; you have 
given notice outside that five hundred ” 

“ Yes, that was three days ago,” the clothes-dealer inter- 
rupted him, suddenly changing histone altogether. “ Since 
then, I’ve engaged four hundred and sixty — indeed, I should 
have liked to make up the five hundred, but as most of the 
work is already arranged, I could only pay the rest very small 
wages ; besides, most of our summer clothing is made by 


50 


A WEEK IN NEW YOUK. 


sempstresses. However, you may work a week on trial. 
You’re only just arrived, aint you ?” 

The tailor answered in the affirmative, wondering at the 
same time how the man could know this. 

“ Well, then,” continued the other, “ as 1 said, you may 
work a week on trial, and I’ll pay your board — if we suit 
each other, at the end of the time, we can enter into an en- 
gagement.” 

“ We’ll consider it, meanwhile,” said the brewer, going 
away, and dragging the little tailor, who offered little resist- 
ance, after him, by his coat tails, out of the shop. 

“ What a lot of clothes were hanging in there !” said 
Schmidt, when they got outside again. 

“ I wonder where he puts his four hundred and sixty 
journeymen to,” said the little tailor, looking up towards the 
house ; “ that must be something like a workshop !” 

“ He’s no fool,” the brewer rejoined ; “ he wants to get 
you to work a week for nothing — a pretty arrangement, that !” 

“ But it may be the custom here, you know,” said the 
tailor. 

“Oh, I wish they may get it !” replied the brewer ; “ if 
that’s the custom, I won’t stay in America. But, halloo ! if 
there aint the Oldenburghers coming along ! 

It was them, in fact, who, like their fellow-travellers, staring 
into every shop, came up the street, and were not a little 
pleased to meet with their old acquaintances so suddenly. 
On board ship, they had almost ceased to look at each other, 
from anger and hatred ; but here, in a foreign country, where 
every thing met them coldly and indifferently, and every body 
seemed to be only trying if they could squeeze money out of 
them in some way or other, their old quarrels had vanished, 
and they shook hands like brothers. 

Of course, they continued their stroll together, and for 
several hours more traversed the principal streets of New 
York ; but who shall describe their embarrassment when the 
setting sun reminded them of their return, and not one of 
them could find their way back, or had even any idea in 
which direction their several inns wel*e situate. 

They walked in vain, with quickened pace, through the 
straight streets, which all cross each other at right angles, no 
longer admiring the gaudy show of the wares exposed for 
sale — at last, not even honouring them with a glance. 


A WEEK IN" NEW YORK. 


51 


Suddenly, they met a man who certainly must be a 
German : the long blue coat — the high-crowned and broad- 
brimmed hat — the short pipe — there could be no mistake. 
Schmidt accordingly walked confidently up to him, and 
taking off his hat, bade him good day, and inquired whether 
he had the honour to address a German. The man thus ac- 
costed, however, stared at him awhile, and seemed in doubt 
whether he should answer or not ; at last, he drew a long 
whiff from his short pipe, stared at the Emigrants all round, 
one after the other, and answered, in a drawling tone — 
“ Yes.” 

“ Oh, then, perhaps you can tell us the way to Perl, or 
Pirl-street ?” (for they had all, by this time, noticed the 
meaning of the English word, “Yes.”) 

“ What number ?” asked their countryman, who was 
sparing of words, looking this time upwards towards the roofs 
of the houses. 

What number ! — oh, yes, there they all were, but not one 
could remember it. Schmidt owned this at last, and added — 

“ Well, the street can’t be so very long ; if we can only 
get to the end of it — 1 know the house, If I see it again. 
Whereabouts is Pearl-street ?” 

“ There — and there — and there !” said their friendly 
countryman, pointing up the broad street in which they were 
standing, then down again, and then to the left, towards a 
cross street ; and, puffing another long cloud from his pipe, 
left the Germans looking at each other. 

“ There — and there — and there !” said the tailor, at last, 
after a pause. 11 Oh my ! he must be making game of us — 
the street can’t go all round about !” 

But the street did go all round about — at least, it took a 
large curve, and the poor devils might have stood there a 
long time, without knowing what to do, had not a more ob- 
liging countryman of theirs at last assisted them, and put 
them on their road again. 

The committee, in the meanwhile, had made themselves 
pretty comfortable at the French tavern, in Hudson-street, 
whither several of the steerage passengers had followed them, 
and a large meeting was convened to be held there on the 
fourth day, in order to agree upon the next measures to be 
taken, and to determine what was to be done. In the interim, 
the elder Siebert had been busily engaged collecting more 


52 


A WEEK IN NEW YORK. 


accurate information concerning the interior of the country, 
and the fiitest place for a settlement, and had made the ac- 
quaintance of a certain Dr. Normann, who promised to lend 
him a helping hand, as he had already, according to his own 
account, been serviceable to many Germans in this particu- 
lar, and they could trust him the more implicitly as he did 
not make a business of it, but merely did it out of friendship 
lor his countrymen. 

He accordingly accompanied Siebert to several venders 
of land, and appeared at last, according to his statement, to 
have met with a particular good thing for the emigrants. It 
was a piece of land in Tennessee, situate about thirty miles 
west of the lively little town of Jackson, where good water, 
a healthy locality, first-rate soil, and the neighbourhood of a 
navigable river, the Big Hatchee, on which several mills 
were already erected, promised every possible advantage for 
settlement. 

Pastor Hehrmann objected that they could not very well 
undertake such a long land journey, because they had so 
much luggage ; but the provident doctor had an answer 
ready to this — he assured them, that their destination being 
only about fifteen miles from the Mississippi, they would 
have to travel that short distance only by land, but that 
every other quarter mile of their journey might be passed 
by water, and that either in a ship by sea to New-Orleans, 
and thence up the Mississippi river to the mouth of the Big 
Hatchee, which was known to every Captain, or by steamer 
or canal-boat to the Ohio, and then down that river into the 
Mississippi. 

The latter route was determined upon unanimously by 
the committee, for they would not expose themselves again 
to all the dangers and discomforts of a sea-voyage ; and the 
principal object of all only now remained to be fixed — viz., 
the price to be paid for the land. Here a^ain there appeared 
to be no difficulty, for the terms were to be as follows : 

The piece of ground* consisted of fifteen acres of cleared 
land, but which, certainly, had not been cultivated for five 
years past ; but Herbold thought that the soil would only be 

* One hundred and sixty acres of land is not more than one farmer 
would take ; consequently, very far short of the wants of a party of sixty- 
five persons. Probably the author means it as another satire on the 
ignorance of emigrants. — T r. 


A WEEK IN NEW YORK. 


53 


the richer for that. These fifteen acres were surrounded by 
a fence ten rails high, (but which, probably, would require a 
little repair here and there,) and further, a curing-house, a 
small kitchen, a stable, and a small crib for Indian corn. All 
these edifices were detached — together with the absolute pro- 
perty in one hundred and sixty acres of land covered with 
splendid wood, which were to be sold at an average price of 
four dollars per acre, or six hundred and forty dollars cash 
for the whole, and the purchasers were to have a formal deed 
of conveyance. 

The price seemed extraordinarily reasonable; for, although 
it is true that the so-called Congress-land, or the tract of 
country not yet occupied by individuals, and belonging to the 
Government of the United States, is sold at the cheap price 
of a dollar and a quarter per acre, yet it does not consist of 
any portion of cleared land, nor of buildings, which un- 
doubtedly must make a great difference. Dr. Normann 
affirmed besides, that it was always a good sign of the fer- 
tility of the soil of a tract of land, that people had formerly 
settled on it, for that the whole surrounding district was 
open to them, and of course they would not choose the worst. 
The committee comprehended these reasons completely, and 
determined to lay the plan before the next meeting, and 
make arrangements accordingly. 

Young Werner had meanwhile settled himself in the same 
inn with the Hehrmanns, although he had hitherto formed no 
definite resolution as to his plans for the future. His heart 
urged him to remain with the Society, and Dr. Normann also 
strongly counselled this ; but his former plans had been, first 
of all, to wait upon several merchants in Philadelphia and 
Boston, and to deliver his letters of introduction, in order to 
be enabled, under their guidance, easily and surely to begin 
some new occupation, in a country where he was a stranger. 
It was when things were in this position, on the second 
evening, and whilst he, with Pastor Hehrmann and other 
guests, were sitting smoking a cigar, in the street before the 
inn, that he made the acquaintance of a young man, a Ger- 
man by birth, who, coming from Kentucky, had traversed 
nearly all the northern states, and now visited New York city 
for the first time. He had been in America from his child- 
hood, and knew the country thoroughly ; but he shook his 
head doubtfully when he heard, in the course of conversation, 


54 


A WEEK IN NEW YORK. 


of the agreement which all the Germans had mutually en- 
tered into, to found a settlement in common. 

“ My dear Mr. Hehrmann,” said the young Kentuckian, 
“ you must not be offended that a young man like myself 
should presume to offer you advice ; but I have experience 
on my side. These settlements in common do no good, 
and you will live to see the result of yours. Somehow or 
other we Germans agree with difficulty (unless we abso- 
lutely must) ; and here, in America, there is no must in the 
case. The country is too large ; the prospects and openings 
are too many and too various, and consequently societies 
generally dissolve themselves quickly, and for the most part 
in a very unpleasant manner ; and besides,” he continued, 
stepping closer, and in a suppressed voice, “ I don’t quite trust 
this Dr. Normann ; I have an impression that I have met the 
man before somewhere, under no very honourable circum- 
stances, but I can’t exactly remember where, and therefore 
will not positively affirm it. However, be that as it may, 
take care, and pay particular attention that you have the 
so-called ‘ deed ’ or instrument conveying the right of pro- 
perty.” 

“ But come, Mr. Werner,” said he to the latter, “ we’ll 
take a walk down to the quay together; there are many 
things to be seen there which will interest you, and besides 
you don’t know enough of New York yet.” With these 
words, he took Werner’s arm, and lounged down Hudson- 
street towards the Battery, and then to the left to the water- 
side, to the same spot where the steerage passengers of the 
HofFnung had landed a day or two before. 

As they were wandering along the narrow quay which 
separates the houses from the water, observing the arrival 
and departure of the shipping, they perceived an unusual 
crowd of people assembled in front of one of the German 
taverns which stand there side by side — in fact, before that 
very one where the Oldenburghers had put up. They 
walked forward to ascertain the cause. 

Just as they had passed on sufficiently to obtain a view 
of the entrance of the house, the door, which up to that 
time had been closed, was suddenly opened, and a man, who 
was received by the people with loud hurrahs, was violently 
ejected, and the door instantly closed behind him. 

A thousand different witticisms and jeers welcomed him ; 


A WEEK IN NEW YORK. 


55 


but he appeared neither to hear nor to see what was passing 
around him, but only tried to get out of the crowd. 

He was passing close to the two young men, when the 
Kentuckian laid his hand upon the man’s shoulder, and ex- 
claimed with surprise : 

“ Muller ! where do you come from ? and in this black- 
guard hole ? I thought you were quiet and contented in 
Indiana.” 

“ Oh, Mr. Helldorf, is that you ?” replied the stranger. 
“ Yes, bad enough to be here, and to go back thus ; but the 
devil take this den of thieves — I’ve been cheated out of all 
that I could call mine.” 

“ But how is that possible ?” asked Werner. 

“ Possible !” said the other, laughing bitterly ; “ what is 
not possible in these German taverns in America ? But 
come away from here ; my blood boils, from merely breath- 
ing the air of the neighbourhood of this pestilent hole ; come 
along, and I will relate to you my story, and that of thou- 
sands more, who have lost, and will lose, all they possess in 
the same way.” 

The three men walked some paces in silence, side by 
side, when the poor German thus began : — 

“ It is now two years since I landed here in a French 
ship from Havre : I had not a single acquaintance in all 
America, nor did I consider that I required one, but relied 
on my own strength and perseverance, for I was healthy 
and strong, and called about fifteen dollars in ready money, 
and a large chest full of linen and clothes, my own : what 
more did I want ? I went, as being near the landing-place, 
into this godless house. Had I only kept my eyes open, the 
first view must have betrayed the character of the crib to 
me ; but, as it was, I thought I could make shift in it ; paid 
my two dollars and a half per week for board, and tried to 
find work. In vain did I run about daily; the times were 
bad ; I could not speak English, and besides I would not un- 
dertake any kind of work that I did not thoroughly under- 
stand, and thus months passed by, during which the landlord, 
when I returned of an evening, unsuccessful, consoled me, 
and obliged me to drink, at which he was always ready to 
give me the benefit of his company. It is true that I was 
not then aware that, according to an American custom, I had 


56 


A WEEK IN NEW YORK. 


to pay for both glasses, as well for that which he drank as 
for my own ; or, rather, that he chalked it up. 

“ Ultimately, he got my last dollar, and I wanted to leave, 
with about fifty cents in my pocket, and go to work some- 
where or other, if only for my board, but he still persuaded 
me to remain. He would arrange the matter, he said ; some- 
thing or other would turn up some of these days, and I was 
not to let my spirits droop ; that I knew very well that I 
might have credit ith him, and that I need have no anxiety 
about that. Fool that I was, I followed his advice. 

“ Thus a fortnight more passed away, and my debt to him, 
for board and drink, might perhaps amount to six dollars, 
when, one Saturday evening, he called me aside, and declared 
that he could not feed me for nothing any longer, and that I 
must look about for a lodging elsewhere. I then informed him 
of my total inability to pay, which, besides, he knew very well 
before, and offered him some of my shirts in lieu of payment; 
for I told him he need not suppose that I wanted to cheat 
him ; he declined this, on the pretence that he could not mix 
himself up with barter of that kind ; that he wanted money, 
and not linen, to pay for his liquors and his provisions ; and 
that if I were not in a position to pay money then, I had bet- 
ter look about and see where I could earn some, and that, 
meanwhile, he should retain my chest as security. 

“ I was quite content — for the things would have been an 
incumbrance to me in my wanderings — took, therefore, two 
shirts and a couple of pairs of socks out of my box, and 
wrapped them in a pocket handkerchief, and left the remain- 
der, with the key in his hands, with the request to have the 
things occasionally taken out and exposed to the air, to pre- 
vent them from rotting. 

“ I then left this place on foot, and, with a few cents in 
my pocket, made my way to Indiana, where, at last, I found 
work ; and you know, Mr. Helldorf, how I worked there, in 
order to get my living honestly. When, at last, I had earned 
the necessary sum, beside enough to defray the journey, I 
came hither to redeem my box, for, meanwhile, my shirts 
were worn out. This morning I arrived, and went immedi- 
ately to yonder rascal. Do you suppose that he knew me, 
again ? Do you suppose that he knew any thing about a 
chest belonging to me ? Confusion ! — the , fellow was wear- 
ing one of my shirts at the very moment when he denied ever 


A WEEK IN NEW YORK. 


57 


having seen them. I could contain myself no longer, but 
knocked him down ; his accomplices, however, got hold of me, 
and turned me out of doors ; and here I am again, with the 
exception of a few dollars, and of much experience, as rich, 
or rather as poor, as before.” 

“ But you will go to a lawyer, surely,” sa,id Werner, 
indignantly — “won’t you? That must be the shortest 
way.” 

“ Do you think so ?” asked the German, looking side- 
ways at him ; “you have not been long in America, if you 
call that the shortest way ; I should have costs to pay, and 
trouble and delay besides, and should never see an article of 
my linen either — that’s lost ; but Heaven have mercy on 
that rascal, if he ever crosses my path again.” 

“ Never mind, Muller,” said Helldorf, deprecatingly ; 
“ like thousands of others, you have paid dearly for your ex- 
perience, and should rather feel obliged to the rogue, on that 
account, than otherwise ; another time keep a better look 
out ; you know the American saying : ‘ No German can earn, 
or rather save, a cent in America until he has got rid of his 
last European penny.’ You have now done with your Eu- 
ropean property : work hard, and you’ll soon earn something 
again.” 

Muller shook his head ; acknowledged, however, the truth 
of what he heard, and, after a little reflection, shook hands 
with Helldorf ; bowed to Werner, and went up Broadway 
back into the town. 

Young Helldorf related to his newly acquired friend many 
other things concerning the German inns, not only in New 
York, but throughout the whole United States, and which 
being, for the most part, established by people who are afraid 
of work, appear in noway to serve the convenience of travel- 
lers, but are merely money-boxes for their landlords, into 
which every passer-by may cast his mite, without receiving 
the least service, or even thanks in return. At last the two 
young people reached the boarding-house, in Hudson-street, 
and separated for the night. 

The committee had undoubtedly chosen one of the best, 
as well as one of the most reasonable inns in New York ; 
nevertheless, all its members were compelled to submit to 
the custom prevailing throughout nearly all the United States 
— that two people should sleep in one bed — which is only 

4 


58 


A WEEK IN NEW YORK. 


tolerable when several friends are together ; and highly re- 
pulsive when one is thrown among strangers. The com- 
mittee at first refused to comply with this custom on any 
condition, and M. Von Schwanthal said that it was opposed 
to all propriety and manners ; but it was no use, the house 
was pretty full, and though they might perhaps have had a 
bed each, they would have been obliged to make room in 
their beds for any stranger who might chance to arrive du- 
ring the night. They chose the less disagreeable alternative 
of being among friends, at all events, and agreed, as well as 
they could, about their couches. Hehrmann’s family took 
possession of a little room to themselves. 

Meanwhile it fared dreadfully with the poor Olden- 
burghers, at the Switzer’s home, where, with admirable 
stoicism, packed three and three in a bed, they exposed 
themselves to the attacks of innumerable squadrons of bugs. 
They had not even wherewithal to get a light, in order to see 
the extent of their misery. Grumbling and swearing, they 
lay till morning. Sleep was out of the question ; and it 
was only towards the approach of dawn, when their torment- 
ors withdrew, that, completely exhausted, they fell into an 
uneasy, unrefreshing sleep, out of which they were shortly 
awakened by the screeching voice of the maid, who called 
them to breakfast. 

They reproached the landlord bitterly, and assured him 
that it was impossible that they could endure such another 
night. He too, promised a change, and gave them his word 
that they should sleep more quietly next night ; but, to their 
by no means agreeable surprise, they learned how he usually 
kept his word. They certainly lay somewhat more quietly, 
for they were so wearied that the exhausted body compelled 
sleep, but every thing else remained as before ; even their 
position, three in a bed, was not bettered. 

They therefore came to the heroic resolution, on the ensu- 
ing morning, to shift their quarters, cost what it might ; it 
cost, however, the amount of a week’s board, which they had 
been obliged to pay in advance, and of which the landlord 
refused to return one cent ; on the contrary, he abused them 
besides, and told them his opinion that his house was much 
too good for such peasant fellows as they. Notwithstanding, 
they carried out their determination, and aided by a carter 
(a German who had spoken to them in the street), removed 


A WEEK IN NEW YORK. 


59 


to the tavern of their fellow-travellers, the situation of which 
they had by this lime discovered. 

But they found these latter in no enviable condition, for * 
the fruit, of which they had partaken so heartily, had made 
them all ill ; and the poor little tailor was so bad that, as he 
said himself, “ he could hardly support himself on his pins.” 
Besides this, the brewer had met with a peculiar mishap, for 
when the alarm of fire arose, for the first time in the night, 
(which hitherto had been the case twice each night,) he 
jumped in wild haste out of bed to the window, half asleep, 
and upset over himself the whole pot full of the shoemaker’s 
newly discovered and prepared blacking, and at the same 
time was so ill and miserable that he would not suffer any 
of them to come near him to clean him ; even the shoemaker 
was not permitted to scrape off the most of it, as he expressed 
himself. The brewer was obstinate, and insisted on dying 
in the blacking. 

The Oldenburghers found room in this house ; and if the 
bugs were pfetty nearly as bad as at the waterside, still the 
whole place looked a little cleaner and more civilized, and 
they had to sleep only two in a bed. Besides, the sick soon 
recovered themselves, and as the day fixed for the consulta- 
tion drew near, all who were to take part in it were well 
enough to give their attendance. 

Mr. Siebert had fixed two o’clock in the afternoon for the 
meeting, and the four comrades, Schmidt, the brewer, the 
tailor, and the shoemaker, lounged off, down Pearl-street, im- 
mediately after dinner, in order not to be too late. 

They had stood about before a great number of shops, 
now viewing the many curiously-bound books and coloured 
engravings, now admiring in astonishment the little shops of 
the money-changers, in whose windows lay long rows of 
bank-notes and scattered heaps of gold, and strange-looking 
silv.er-coin ; now staring after the gaudily-dressed negresses 
and mulatto women, who in their turn honoured the gaping 
party of “ Dutchmen ” with a broad grin ; when the tailor 
suddenly called the attention of the rest to a sign opposite, 
which bore the picture of a small striped pig, over which was 
an inscription, “ Entrance, 6| cents.” 

“ What is to be seen there, then ?” said Schmidt. 

“ Oh !” quoth the tailor, “ don’t you see, it’s all over 
stripes ; but it seems to me very small.” 


60 


A WEEK IN NEW YORK. 


“ Shall we go in ?” asked the brewer ; “ it only costs a 
sechser,”* (six cents.) 

“ Yes, the devil take the sechsers !” said the shoemaker, 
with an important shake of the head ; “ one of their sechsers 
is just as quickly spent as a sechser with us at home, and 
yet yonder it’s only six pfennings, and here it’s four-and- 
twenty ! I won’t go with you ; I have too much need of my 
few kreutzers, for the brewer had the blacking that I hoped 
to earn a couple of dollars by.” 

“ But, shoemaker,” said the brewer, “ don’t be offended, 
but that was — very — well, I don’t know how to express myself 
mildly enough — but very stupid of you, just when there was 
an alarm of fire to put your blacking in the window.” 

“ Well ; but how could I tell that there was going to be a 
fire?” asked the other, surprised. 

“ Well, perhaps not exactly ; yet — never mind, shoe- 
maker, that can be made up again, and the six cents can’t 
cling to your heart now ; so come along — we must have a 
look at this wonderful creature.” 

With these words he stepped forward, and immediately 
afterwards, accompanied by his companions, walked through 
a small glass door covered with a green curtain, into the 
house. 

The interior of the narrow and low room which they now 
stepped into, by no means resembled a menagerie in other 
respects, for on the right hand stood a small table, like a bar- 
counter, covered with bottles and glasses, and several persons 
were seated, or lounged about the room, while, on the left- 
hand was fixed a square box with wire trellis- work, something 
like a rather massive bird-cage, and therein sat a little inno- 
cent pig, on which one might faintly recognize the wonder- 
ful stripes which passed across his body. 

The four Germans paid their six cents and a quarter and 
viewed the pig. The shoemaker, however, shaking his head, 
thought it very hard that one should pay so much money to 
see a creature like that. 

“ And it has no stripes !” cried the tailor. 

“ Wait awhile,” said a man standing behind the table, in 


* A sechser is a small German coin, value six German pfennings, or 
rather more than an English halfpenny ; a cent, I need hardly say, is the 
hundredth part of a dollar, or about a halfpenny sterling. — Tr. 


A WEEK IN NEW YORK. 


61 


German, but with a strange sounding foreign accent, “ it 
will soon have some.” * 

“ Stripes !” said the brewer, surprised. 

“ Ahem !” nodded the stranger ; “ but won’t you have 
something to drink?” he continued, getting out some glasses. 
“ What do you take, brandy, whisky, cider, wine, beer ?” 

“ Beer, by all means,” said the brewer. 

“ No,” declared the shoemaker, “ I won’t have any thing 
to drink — six cents for such a sight as that, and six more 
cents for a drink ! No ,* to stand that I must have stolen my 
money, and found my box again !” 

“ The drinking costs thee no more,” the barman declared. 

“ Why do you ‘ thee’ and £ thou ’* me, then ?” asked the 
shoemaker, somewhat nettled. 

“ Thou speakest so prettily, how else shall I call thee ?” 

The shoemaker was about to make some angry reply, 
but the little tailor poked him in the ribs, and said, “ Don’t 
be a fool, but let him talk in his own fashion — he says the 
drinking is to cost nothing.” 

“ Well, I don’t care,” said the shoemaker ; “ he might as 
well be a little more civil.” 

The men had just stepped up to the table, and had their 
beverages handed to them, when, to their inexpressible won- 
der, a tall man, with a light blue dress-coat, of coarse cloth, 
with bright buttons, chickory-colored trowsers, and a black 
hat, worn rather back on his head, holding a paint-pot in the 
left hand, and a long brush in his right, walked in, and, with- 
out changing countenance in the least, or troubling himself 
about those around him, went up to the box where the bristly 
little prodigy was kept, took his brush between his teeth while 
he opened the lid, and then with bold strokes of the brush, 
but in perfect repose of mind, began to freshen up the rubbed 
off stripes of the grunting quadruped. 

“ I say,” quoth the brewer, nudging the tailor, “ look ! — 
see, how he is manufacturing natural curiosities.” 

“ Oh my !” exclaimed the little man in his turn, “ and 
we must pay six cents for that /” 

The men who were in the room laughed immoderately 

* In German, “du” (thou) is used only in addressing those with 
whom one is on familiar terms; but “sie” (you) is always employed 
either in speaking to strangers, or to persons whom it is wished to treat 
with respect. — T r. 


62 


A WEEK IN NEW YORK. 


at the surprise of the Germans ; and the barman observed to 
them, in perfect good faith, “ There, you see, you’ve learnt 
something new again !” 

But the shoemaker was indignant ; he pulled his hat over 
his brows, and immediately forsook the house, accompanied 
by his companions, without bestowing another look at either 
the people or the lusus naturce. 

“ I never — why, that beats cockfighting !” cried the little 
tailor, when they were outside again. “ I never heard of such 
a thing ; why, those fellows have the impudence of the devil 
himself.” 

“ Well, we shall do well in America, if this is to be taken 
as an omen,” laughed Schmidt ; “ but I wonder that the po- 
lice should suffer such a trick. Couldn’t one inform against 
the fellow ? — why, it’s a — regular cheat.” 

“ Yes, that would be a great deal of good,” replied the 
tailor. “We dare not tell of it, for if we do, they’ll only laugh 

at us, besides But, halloo, brewer ! where are you off* 

to?” he called after him, as that worthy, who had suddenly 
stopped, as in reflection, now turned and ran quickly back — 
“ have you forgotten any thing ?” 

But he got no answer. The brewer ran, as fast as his 
legs would carry him, back to the drinking-shop which he 
had just left; but while they were yet gazing after him in 
wonder, he came back again, with a very cross face, and 
joined them. 

“What have you forgotten, then?” asked all of them at 
once. 

“ Oh !” replied the brewer, peevishly, “ I was so taken 
aback by that precious pig, that I left my beer only half 
drunk out, and now they’ve poured it away, and grinned at 
me besides for coming back for it.” 

He fared no better with his companions ; and laughing 
and talking over what had just occurred, stopping before 
every shop, they wandered slowly towards the place of 
meeting. 

Business had not yet commenced, and the passengers of 
the “ Hoffnung” were standing about in groups in the large 
dining-room of the tavern ; the only strangers present were 
Dr. Normann and young Helldorf. But the little tailor could 
not contain himself any longer, and although the four com- 
panions in misfortune had come to the resolution to keep their 


A WEEK IN NEW YORK. 


63 


adventure secret, still he related it to Pastor Hehrmann, 
who, with young Werner, Dr. Normann, and Mr. Helldorf, 
stood at one of the windows. 

“ My dear friend,” the doctor said, in a very affable man- 
ner, by way of consolation, “ you have by no means been 
cheated ; that’s a house where I am very well known, and 
where I often look in, for the people there keep the best of 
liquors.” 

“But, my good doctor,” objected Pastor Hehrmann, “ if 
they pretend to show a natural curiosity, and take money for 
it, that cannot be excused by any means.” 

“ The thing has two sides,” the doctor replied ; “ they 
take the money, it is true, but then they give their visitors 
something to drink in return. Did you not get what 
liquor you called for ? Such was the case. Well, then, you 
had value for your six cents. The striped pig is only there 
in order to give the landlord the opportunity of selling his 
liquors without being compelled to pay the high tax which 
is levied upon all other drinking rooms. He is not forbidden 
— nobody can forbid him — from showing any natural wonder, 
or any creature indeed, were it even a common rat ; and if 
he receives six cents for the view of his striped pig, and 
gives his visitors some liquor for nothing, why, he doesn’t 
sell his brandy, and consequently need not pay for a license 
for so doing.” 

“ Well, that is a dodge,” said the tailor. 

“ There are many other ways and means besides,” the 
doctor continued, “ to evade this law, which, strictly speak- 
ing, is by no means an unjust one, but is intended to pre- 
vent the too great increase of drinking-shops. For example, 
in Nassau-street, there is a man who keeps brandy and 
cigars — the cigars are very bad ; however, he charges six 
cents a piece for them, and gives a drink in the bargain. In 
Boston, not long since, chemists only were permitted to retail 
spirituous liquors, but that did not prevent the publicans 
from doing so ; they procured some large bottles, had them 
filled with blue and red-coloured water, put a few glasses, 
with herbs and tea and such like cheap medicaments, in their 
bar-rooms, and in a few days there arose, I forget now how 
many hundred new chemists’ shops. These are little advan- 
tages which every one endeavours to get in this country. 


64 


A WEEK IN NEW YORK. 


The American motto is, ‘ Help thyself/ the how is a secon- 
dary consideration.” 

“ Fine principles those for honest people !” observed 
Werner, 

“ But so it is,” said the doctor ; “ you’ll find that out soon 
enough. For example, you probably may have observed 
some clothes-shops here and there, where five, or even six 
hundred hands are wanted.” 

“ Oh, yes,” cried the tailor, quickly ; “ we went into one 
of them this morning.” 

“Well,” asked Dr. Normann, “hadn’t he already en- 
gaged four hundred and some odd ?” 

“ About four hundred and sixty,” the tailor interrupted 
him in astonishment. 

“ Well, then, four hundred and sixty,” said the doctor, 
laughing. “ So I suppose that, as he had nearly completed 
his number, he could only take you upon trial ? I know — 
the usual pretence — not on account of the journeymen, but 
of the customers, who are to form a very grand idea of the 
shopkeeper’s business ; such a man has, perhaps, not more 
than six or seven hands at work for him in a little back-room. 
Appearance is every thing.” 

“ No ! is it possible !” exclaimed Meier. 

“ But, gentlemen,” Mr. Becher now interrupted them, 
“ suppose we now proceed to business ? Dr. Normann, 
whom I hereby have the pleasure of introducing to all pre- 
sent, has been so good as to look about for a well-situated 
tract of land for us, and this meeting has been called to con- 
fer on the acceptance or rejection of this offer.” 

All held their peace, and surrounded Mr. Becher in 
attentive silence. He thus continued : 

“ The land which Dr. Normann has recommended to us, 
lies in Tennessee, somewhat more than 200 German miles 
(1000 English) farther to the west; however, with the ex- 
ception of some few miles, the entire distance may be passed 
by water. We obtain there, for the purpose of a beginning, 
160 acres of good land, covered with wood, and, supplied 
with some, although inadequate, buildings. But, where 
timber is to be had in superfluity, and there are so many 
active and strong hands which can be put in motion, I should 
say, according to my view of the case, that the want of 
buildings is but a small drawback. Of these 160 acres, 


A WEEK IN NEW YORK. 


65 


fifteen are completely cleared, rendered arable, and fenced 
in, and although they have been but little cropped, yet have 
been lying fallow again during five years past, and there- 
fore, in this respect, are very promising. 

“ In addition, the price asked for the whole, through the 
kind intercession of Doctor Normann, is reduced to four 
dollars per acre, although the owners, in the first instance, 
are said to have asked six dollars, which, therefore, would 
amount to 640 dollars for the whole, and might not only be 
defrayed out of the funds in hand, but would leave a bal- 
ance of some 220 dollars wherewith to defray at least a por- 
tion of the travelling expenses. 

“ If we accept the proposal, in the first place we not only 
save much expense, which a protracted stay in New York 
would make inevitable, but we lay the foundation in com- 
mon of a sure provision for the future, for, according to the 
doctor’s statement, there are a great number of Germans 
living in Tennessee, of whom hundreds are only waiting for- 
the opportunity of joining some regular German colony ; 
and I should think that we possess both the will and the 
means to found a sound and orderly one.” 

Mr. Becher ceased, and complete silence reigned for a 
moment, which was suddenly broken by Mr. Herbold, who, 
with his hands in his pockets, and leaning against a table, had 
listened attentively to the whole proposition, and now gave 
vent to his thoughts in the words, “ Not amiss ; that might 
do. very well.” 

Murmurs of approbation of the scheme now resounded 
from every side, but a number of questions were also put 
from all quarters, which neither Mr. Becher nor the com- 
mittee generally could answer, and which related to the ' 
climate, the produce, the game, the healthiness of the dis- 
trict, and the nature of the soil. At the instance of Mr. 
Becher, Dr. Normann now took up the word, and said : — 

“ It is a pleasure to me, gentlemen, to be enabled to 
answer the greater part of the questions which have been 
addressed to me in the most satisfactory manner. The 
climate is mild, the winters are short, and ice and snow are 
seldom seen, which, indeed, you may conclude from the fact 
that cotton is grown there, which, it is well known, requires 
a warm climate. The productions are cotton, maize, or 
Indian corn, wheat, rye, barley, oats, and all sorts of pulse ; 

4* 


66 


A WEEK IN NEW YORK. 


at the same time it is the finest district for peaches, and the 
forests are filled with wild fruits ; the cattle, of which you 
may rear as many as you please, run about in the open air 
all the year round, and will not cost you one cent for fodder. 

“ Stables or cattle sheds are not thought of, unless, in- 
deed, you wish to keep a horse constantly ready, and confine 
it on that account. The soil is particularly good ’ just con- 
sider that tracts of country on the Mississippi have been 
cropped for more than a century, and have never been ma- 
nured yet. As to its healthiness, why, temperate people are 
well every where, and a farmer’s life is necessarily a tem- 
perate one.” 

“ But how are we to take what we may raise to market V* 
asked the brewer. 

“ A small river, which is navigable during at least seven 
months in the year, runs past your settlement,” replied 
the doctor. “ Besides, you are a short distance only from 
the Mississippi, and by it are connected with the whole 
world.” 

“ The description is very inviting,” said Pastor Hehr- 
mann, smiling : “ it almost seems to me that the worthy 
doctor has sketched a little paradise ; but shall we not be 
disappointed in our expectations ? Such an undertaking is 
an important step, and ought to be well considered from every 
point of view.” 

“ What grounds are there to induce me to tell you a 
falsehood ? Have I any interest in the whole affair ?” re- 
plied the doctor, confidentially and good-naturedly. 

“ Allow, me gentlemen,” Helldorf now began, “ to call 
your attention to some circumstances which I find have 
hitherto not been considered. The long journey is the least 
matter, for you must go somewhere or other, and if you have 
not too much luggage, that can be got over well enough, but 
the cleared land has not been tilled for five years, as I hear, 
and you must remember that we are in America, and not in 
Germany.” 

“ You don’t pretend to affirm that that will injure the 
land ?” interrupted the doctor, who seemed highly dissatis- 
fied with the young Kentuckian’s presence. 

“ Not in the least,” the other replied ; “but do you think 
that nothing has grown on the old field in five years, or that 


A WEEK IN NEW YORK. 


67 


the bushes and young trees which have shot up can be so 
very easily eradicated ?” 

“ Well, but though underwood is bad enough certainly,” 
interposed Mr. Herbold, “ still there are plenty of us, and it 
shan’t take long to clear all that off again.” 

“ My good Mr. Herbold,” objected Helldorf, “ believe 
me, you and all your company could not in several years 
clear fifteen acres of woodland on the Mississippi, which, 
having been chopped, has lain waste for five years ;* and 
besides, I am convinced that you must not reckon in the least 
on fences and buildings ; for where these have been so long 
neglected in the bush, they will hardly be of any use.” 

“ Mr JHelldorf, I can’t comprehend why you view every 
thing from the blackest side !” remarked the doctor, some- 
what offended, as it seemed. “ What grounds do you give 
for your apprehensions ?” 

“ My own experience,” the Kentuckian calmly replied ; 
“it happened so with my own land ; just where the largest 
trees were cut down, or only girdled and withered, so that 
light and air could have free access to the soil, there the 
young saplings and stems shot out with a rankness and 
rapidity of which Europeans can form no notion ; and this 
after-growth, for the very reason that it consists mostly of 
roots, is a great deal more difficult to clear than the aborigi- 
nal trees, the thick shadows from the tops of which have 
killed the underwood beneath for ages past. But, passing 
over this, what title to this land can you show to the society ?” 

It was obvious that the worthy doctor was unwilling to 
enter upon answers to young Helldorf’s questions ; but as 
the eyes of the whole assembly were fixed on the doctor, 
as though they addressed the question to him, he smilingly 
drew a parchment from his breast pocket, and unfolded it. 
It was the grant of the said 160 acres of land to a certain 
William Hewitt, in consideration of military services per- 
formed, and was signed by President Monroe, in 1819. 

Helldorf had no objection to make to this ; the military 


* This is much exaggerated ; two men can chop and clear — i. e. log 
and burn — fifteen acres of hard woodland in fifteen weeks ; and allowing, 
as is the fact, that land in the condition referred to in the text would take 
twice as long to clear as the original wood, still that would only make it 
thirty weeks’ work for two men. Not the work of several years for twenty 
or thirty men, although unused to this work. — T r. 


68 


A WEEK IN NEW YORK. 


grants were mostly acknowledged, but were always to be 
bought at a very low price, and he only stated that the im- 
provements ought to be pretty considerable to induce the 
emigrants to give so much more per acre than they could 
buy land of the government of the United States for. 

The doctor made no reply, but turned to the people them- 
selves, who, without exception, appeared so delighted with 
the attractive description of the place which was to be their 
future home, that they began to press upon the committee to 
conclude the bargain, and set out for the goal of all their 
wanderings. 

“ But you have told us nothing about the game V ’ asked 
M. Yon Schwanthal, who was a keen sportsman. 

“ Because I did not wish to appear in your eyes as an 
exaggerater or embellisher ; for no doubt you will consider 
me such when I tell you of the deer, the turkeys, bears, &c., 
which you will find yonder.” 

“ And hares and partridges ?” asked M. Von Schwanthal. 

“ No one thinks of shooting them,” smiled the doctor ; 
“ for Heaven’s sake, who would waste a charge of powder 
and shot upon a miserable partridge, when he can get a deer 
with it ? But you’ll find all that out when you get there.” 

All the emigrants appeared to have made up their minds, 
and they were as eager about the purchase of, and journey 
to, that spot of land, as though they had had their eyes upon 
that little point, between the Mississippi and the small town 
of Jackson in Tennessee, ever since they left home. They 
would not hear of any other state but Tennessee, and the 
committee closed the bargain with Dr. Normann on the 
same evening, paid the purchase money, and received from 
him the deed, which was handed over to the elder Siebert for 
safe custody. The latter had hung back a good deal pending 
the treaty, and returned very superficial answers to several 
questions addressed to him concerning the condition of the 
country (which, according to his own account, he had trav- 
elled through). However, he concluded the purchase in 
legal form, and took possession of the muniment of title. He 
paid the purchase-money out of the funds which remained in 
his hands, and merely called the emigrants’ attention to the 
fact that the time was at hand when they would have to pay 
up their remaining contribution, so that the committee might 
not be fettered in acting for them according to the best of their 


A WEEK IN NEW YORK. 


69 


ability. He appeared to have formed an acquaintance with 
Dr. Normann very quickly, and towards evening left the 
tavern in his company. 

It now only remained to determine the route which the 
emigrants should take to reach their new home ; but all 
were soon agreed upon this subject, for every one was afraid 
of another sea- voyage ; and the road by Albany, Buffalo, 
thence down the Ohio to Portsmouth, from which last-named 
place they could reach the Big Hatchee by steamer, was 
adopted. It is true that Helldorf, who by this time had be- 
come pretty well acquainted with their situation, had recom- 
mended them to sell the greater part of their baggage, par- 
ticularly the ploughs and axes, &c., which they had brought 
with them ; but no one would listen to this, and at last the 
third day was fixed for their departure. 

From New York, they were to start in a steamer for 
Albany, thence by rail as far as Utica, and from Utica by 
canal, via Buffalo to Portsmouth. Their society consisted of 
sixty-five individuals in all, including women and children, 
and hitherto every thing promised a prosperous journey ; the 
weather, besides, was splendid, and glad hope animated every 
breast. 

Werner, however, persuaded by Helldorf, had not joined 
the society, and did not intend to follow it for some time to 
come, as he wished, first of all, to visit Philadelphia and Bal- 
timore. Preparations for the departure of the settlers were 
now in full activity, and many things which they considered 
they could not calculate on meeting with in the interior were 
bought in New York. M. Von Schwanthal, in particular, 
provided himself with powder and shot, and promised to find 
fresh meat constantly for the whole party. 

Next day was Sunday, and the Oldenburghers had be- 
taken themselves to the German church betimes, to attend 
divine service ; but the shoemaker was anxious to hear an 
English sermon for once, and easily persuaded the tailor and 
Schmidt to accompany him : the brewer remained in bed. 

The three, therefore, dressed in their Sunday’s best, tra- 
versed the quiet and almost empty streets, until they came 
opposite to a church, whence the loud and thundering voice 
of the preacher resounded. Without long consideration they 
entered, and found themselves in a small but pretty well 
filled church, fitted up after the ordinary fashion of evan- 


70 


A WEEK IN NEW YORK. 


gelical churches, with a high pulpit and small altar. The 
preacher appeared particularly inspired, and the words seem- 
ed “ to flow of themselves from his mouth / 5 as the shoemaker 
expressed it, not a syllable of which, however, could they 
understand. 

Pressed forward by those who arrived later than them- 
selves, our adventurers had got promoted nearly to the 
centre of the church, and stood almost opposite to the priest ; 
but the countenance of the latter became constantly wilder, 
his movements more violent, and the little tailor had twice 
already gently touched the shoemaker, and expressed a wish 
to retire, when suddenly a woman, who was sitting close 
beside them, uttered a heart-breaking sigh ; Meier turned his 
head quickly, and saw that she began to turn up her eyes, 
and gasp for breath. 

“ I say, there 5 s a woman taken ill ! 55 he said, in a low 
voice, to Schmidt, who stood just before him. 

“ Oh, she’ll get better again presently, I dare say !” said 
Schmidt, pacifying him. 

But just the same sort of sighing and groaning arose from 
several sides, and the stout woman near them seemed espe- 
cially affected by something or other, for her sighs followed 
each other faster and faster, her limbs began to tremble, and 
every thing showed that she must be dreadfully excited. All 
at once, a change came over the whole spirit of the fat 
woman ; her gaze was fixed on the tailor, who tremblingly 
followed her every movement with his eyes ; her nostrils di- 
lated, her mouth opened, and, uttering a loud scream, she 
jumped up. 

“ Oh Lord !” cried the tailor, and his knees knocked to- 
gether. Schmidt looked round for the first time at the in- 
spired one, who moved up and down, stamped with her feet, 
clenched her hands, and cried and rejoiced. 

Schmidt cast his eyes round about, but to his inexpressible 
surprise nobody seemed to trouble himself about the stout 
woman ; the people did not so much as look round ; and as 
he thought that she must be possessed by an evil spirit, at 
least, he pressed past the tailor, who made room for him with 
the greatest pleasure, and took hold of the arms of the wo- 
man, who was striking about her violently. 

“ Break open her thumbs — break open her thumbs !” the 
shoemaker exclaimed ; and Schmidt, poor fellow, good- 


A WEEK IN NEW YORK. 


71 


naturedly tried to comply, when a dreadful cry met his ear ; 
at the same time he felt himself suddenly seized simul- 
taneously by the collar, by the arms, and by the shoulders, 
and before he could exactly comprehend what was taking 
place, or what was intended, he lay peacefully alongside of 
the shoemaker in the street. Scarce had they had time to 
pick themselves up and look about them, when the door 
opened once more, and the tailor, without his hat, made a 
mighty spring, clean over the pavement and gutter, into the 
carriage-road, where he fell nearly doubled together, but 
quickly gathering himself up again, and either not heeding 
or else not hearing the calls of his comrades, he flew along 
the street in wild haste, till on his turning the corner they 
lost sight of him. 

The passers-by began to take notice, so the shoemaker 
took hold of Schmidt’s arm, and they forsook together a spot 
where their presence began to attract attention. It was not 
until they had got into the vicinity of their inn again that 
Schmidt stopped in surprise, and staring at the other, said, 
“ Well, I beg of you ! — did you ever experience the like in 
your whole life ?” 

“ For the first time to-day !” ihe shoemaker replied. 
“ But where can the little one be ?” 

“We shall be obliged to have him advertised in the 
newspapers,” Schmidt said : “ for, with such a start as he 
took at the church, he’ll never stop again till he drops. How 
he ran, to be sure !” 

“ Yes ; and what did they really turn us out for, after 
all asked the shoemaker ; “ perhaps it was because you 
went to the assistance of the fat woman ?” 

“ Ask them,” growled Schmidt ; “ rough people, they 
are. Well ! if they only wait till they catch me in one of 
their churches again !” 

They had, meanwhile, reached their abode, and found 
the two young people, Helldorf and Werner, who were sitting 
in the public room, conversing with the brewer. But when 
the shoemaker and Schmidt told them the story of their 
wrongs, Helldorf burst into a loud laugh, and explained to 
them that they had got into a congregation of Methodists, and 
had offended the latter not a little by laying hands upon a 
sister who was divinely inspired. But all felt anxious now 
about the little tailor, who had fled in such fearful haste, no 


72 


A WEEK IN NEW YORK. 


one knew whither, when the latter unexpectedly made his 
appearance at the door, with haggard eyes, pale colourless 
cheeks, and quite chopfallen. He really looked very ill. 

The landlady, however, quickly filled him up a good 
bumper of bitters, and he recovered a little by degrees, 
though it was quite half an hour before he was in a condi- 
tion to relate, how the fat woman, whilst Schmidt and the 
shoemaker were being turned out, had attacked him, and (he 
protested solemnly, and swore that it was true) had tried to 
bite him; that he recollected nothing further, except having 
jumped up, and fled with all the strength at his command. 

“ But, I say, where’s your hat?” asked the brewer. 

“ That must be lying in the church still !” sighed the 
tailor. 

“ Yes, but won’t you go back, and fetch it ?” said the 
brewer. 

“ //” exclaimed the tailor, astonished to the last degree ; 
“ I go back into that church, — to that fat woman ! Brewer ! 
if the whole church were filled with hats, (of the best qua- 
lity, five and a quarter dollars apiece,) and I might have 
them all, I wouldn’t put a foot across the threshold.” It was 
useless to press him further ; he never saw his hat more. 

Mrs. Hehrmann, with her daughters, had by this time re- 
covered from the troubles and hardships of the sea- voyage, 
and Bertha, in particular, was as blooming as a rose ; but 
she bowed her little head very sadly and sorrowfully when 
Werner, while sitting beside them and Helldorf, in the little 
room, on the Saturday evening, for the first time intimated 
that they would not continue their journey together, but 
that he proposed, in the first instance, to visit the neighbour- 
ing towns. 

“ I had believed that you would have joined our settle- 
ment,” she whispered, at last ; “ but it seems, however, ” 

“ But, child,” her mother interrupted her, “ Mr. Werner, 
no doubt, has his own sufficient reasons, and when he has 
attended to his business here, perhaps he may visit us in 
Tennessee. He knows that he will be always welcome 
to us.” 

“ I need not tell you, my dear madam,” answered Wer- 
ner, “ how I appreciate your goodness, and how grateful I 
am for the friendly sympathy you have constantly shown 
me ; and I hope to be able to prove it hereafter. At present, 


A WEEK IN NEW YORK. 


73 


however, I am compelled to visit Philadelphia as well as 
Baltimore, to deliver several letters of introduction, which 
may, perhaps, be of service to me hereafter ; it would, there- 
fore, be imprudent in me to neglect them. But, notwith- 
standing, it is quite possible that I may reach the locality of 
your settlement soon after you, as Mr. Helldorf tells me that 
there is a nearer way over the hills.” 

“ Quite right,” replied the latter, “ and it will probably so 
happen ; for, my dear Werner, if nothing else detain you 
besides the result of your letters of introduction, your time 
will not be much taken up. One invitation to dinner at each 
place where you have delivered such a letter, and you have 
gone through it all ; it is even questionable whether he to 
whom you were recommended may know you on the follow- 
ing day.” 

“ But, Helldorf, my dear fellow ” 

“ I know it-r — I have seen it happen so often. But there’s 
nothing like a trial, and that is soon made.” 

At that moment, a tap was heard at the door, which 
opened, and in walked Dr. Normann, with the most agreeable 
face in the world. He inquired very anxiously after the 
health of the Hehrmanns, and gave them such good and rea- 
sonable advice as to their future conduct, in their new and 
unaccustomed mode of life, related on the occasion so many 
experiences and events from his own life, and altogether 
managed to make himself so agreeable, that even Helldorf 
lost a portion of his former unaccountable aversion to him, 
and became more conversable and friendly. 

The doctor was particularly obliging to Werner; and, 
upon hearing that he was going into the interior, promised 
him some excellent introductions, such as must assure the 
best reception to him. 

“ But of what use will they be, doctof ?” asked Helldorf; 
“you know yourself that in this country ” 

“ I know — perfectly aware of it !” the doctor interrupted 
him. “ But rely upon me, you shall have introductions, to- 
morrow morning, from a man which will ensure you the re- 
ception of -a son in his house ; and yet I give you my word 
that, except his name, I myself know as little of the man as 
you do.” 

“ The doctor speaks in riddles,” said Mrs. Hehrmann, 


74 


A WEEK IN NEW YORK. 


smiling; “if you could do that, you would be a conjurer 
indeed !” 

“ Any thing but that, madam ; all that is required is a 
little knowledge of human nature. But to-morrow I will 
give my proofs.” 

“ I say, doctor, you were speaking, not long since, of an 
invention of yours, on account of which you were staying 
here,” said Helldorf. “ Might I ask of what kind it is?” 

“ Haven’t I told you about my invention yet ?” simpered 
Normann. “ Yes, 1 hope that it will make some noise ; I 
have discovered the long-lost art of making inconsumable 
light. It was known to the ancients, for in long-closed-up 
sepulchres burning lamps have been found. I am already 
in communication with the president on the subject, and am 
going to Washington next week, on that account.” 

“ Why, doctor, this discovery must be of inestimable 
value !” exclaimed Werner. 

“ A hundred thousand dollars have been offered me for it 
in Germany, and the same sum in France ; but I am a Re- 
publican — Republican, body and soul — and my invention is 
not to be bought by any king ! It was in Arkansas 
that ” 

“Were you ever in Arkansas ?” Helldorf burst out, 
jumping from his chair, and gazing narrowly into the doc- 
tor’s countenance. The latter appeared to change colour, 
but soon- regained his self-possession, and, looking the young 
man fixedly in the face, and with a somewhat forced smile, 
said — 

“ No ; you did not hear me out. It was in Arkansas that 
I was about to make some experiments on the subject, but at 
that time 1 was taken ill at Cincinnati, and could not under- 
take the journey.” 

“ I beg pardon,” said Helldorf ; “ it was an old recollec- 
tion- — your face seemed so familiar to me.” 

Again the colour left the doctor’s cheeks a little, but his 
features remained unmoved, and he said, smiling — “ He who 
lives in America sees many faces, for half the population is 
constantly on the move ; that among them there should fre- 
quently be people who resemble each other, is very natural. 
But,” he broke off, abruptly, “ I have yet some little business 
to transact. As to our engagement, Mr. Werner, I am ready 
to keep my word to-morrow morning. Call for me at half- 


A WEEK IN NEW YORK. 


75 


past eight. Till then, farewell ! Mrs. Hehrmann — ladies, I 
take my leave.” 

When the doctor had left them, Helldorf spoke only in 
monosyllables, and shortly afterwards also withdrew, accom- 
panied by Werner. 

“ Now I’m sure of it !” he exclaimed, as he wandered 
down the Sabbath-still street ; “ now I’ve got on the fellow’s 
track. Arkansas — Arkansas ! — that’s the place where I 
have seen him !” 

“ But he has never been there,” suggested Werner. 

“ Lies ! lies !” exclaimed Helldorff. “ I saw how he 
changed colour, for he recognized me, too, at that moment ! 
But he wore a beard then, which disguised him, and passed 
by a different name. There he was Dr. Wahler — I am cer- 
tain of it — and was challenged for cheating at play, and se- 
cretly shot his challenger on his way to the ground !” 

“ That would be horrible !” said Werner. 

“ It is him — I know him !” Helldorff declared. “ Now 
Heaven have mercy upon the poor settlers, for there can no 
longer be any doubt but that the rascal has cheated them !” 

“But how can that be possible?” Werner objected. — 
“ You yourself pronounce the deed correct and genuine, the 
land must be in existence ! I can’t conceive ” 

“ Time will show !” Helldorf exclaimed. “ But that this 
is the villain, I could swear ! I am only curious to know in 
what manner he will procure letters of introduction for you 
to-morrow.” 

“ Is it not possible to bring him to account, if he has been 
guilty of any thing so dreadful ?” asked Werner. 

“ How !” replied Helldorf, with a shrug of the shoulders. 
“ Where are the proofs ? — where are the people now who 
then lived in yonder scene ? Oh, my dear Werner, a year — 
a single year — makes a wonderful change here in America ! 
However, I have not yet done with this villain, for he whom 
he shot was my best friend ; the good doctor may, therefore, 
look out for himself, if his path crosses mine ! But now good 
night, Werner. Say not a word of w'hat I have just confided 
to you, and let him give you the letters of introduction to- 
morrow morning ; perhaps, we shall get at some explanation 
of the doctor’s character. 

Werner did not retire to rest until late, and wild dreams 
disturbed his slumber ; he was, therefore, up early, and at the 


76 


A WEEK IN NEW YORK. 


hour appointed stood at the doctor’s room. He was just 
dressed, and met him at the door, and taking the young man’s 
arm, confidentially, walked with him to an hotel in Chatham- 
street, where he inquired whether a certain Mr. Smith, from 
the country, was staying there ? 

On receiving the waiter’s reply in the affirmative, he told 
him to announce two strangers who wished to speak to Mr. 
Smith upon business ; and, turning with a smile to Werner, 
who asked him once more in astonishment whether he really 
did not know the man, said, “ You may convince yourself 
of that.” 

Mr. Smith immediately asked the gentlemen up stairs, 
and the waiter showed them into a small, clean-looking room, 
where the stranger stepped forward to meet them, and po- 
litely asked them to be seated. 

“ Mr. Smith,” Dr Normann now began, “ although I am a 
complete stranger to you, still I have heard of your consider- 
able tracts of land, and of the advantageous position of your 
proposed town. A party of Germans have arrived here, and 
another ship is expected to follow in a few weeks, all of whom 
intend to settle somewhere in the interior. This young man, 
Mr. Werner,” — the American bowed , — “ is commissioned to 
look about for a suitable spot for them, and upon my advice, 
purposes visiting your neighbourhood. If I might request of 
you the favour of some introductions for my friend, which 
might facilitate his business, you would not only greatly 
oblige us, but perhaps also attract a settlement of industrious 
Germans in your vicinity.” 

The expression of the American’s face had brightened 
up more and more during these words. He now rose very 
politely, shook hands with both of them, and said some very 
obliging words to young Werner, to which the latter, abashed 
by such boundless impudence, and not himself sufficiently 
master of the English language, could only reply by a silent 
bow. Without wasting another word, the American went 
to a writing-table, and after the lapse of a very few minutes, 
handed over an open letter of introduction to his own family, 
as well as to his two brothers, who lived in the same neigh- 
bourhood, and who were therein requested to show all pos- 
sible civility to the bearer, and to assist him in seeing the 
country, and especially in becoming acquainted with their 
part of it. In vain did Werner try to stammer out a few 


A WEEK IN NEW YORK. 


77 


words, which were intended to inform the American that he 
had no part in this breach of confidence : the latter, who 
probably supposed that he was endeavouring to express his 
thanks, drowned his words in a stream of compliments. Dr. 
Normann took him by the arm, and, before he knew exactly 
what was going forward, he found himself, in a few minutes, 
in the street again, with the letter of introduction in his 
pocket-book, and the doctor’s arm in his own. 

“ Well — haven’t I kept my word ?” he asked, laughing, 
as they walked down Chatham-street towards the Post-office ; 
“ am I not a conjurer ? Yes, my dear Mr. Werner, take 
hold of the weak points of the Americans and you may do 
what you like with them, but, unless you do that, they’re as 
tough as hickory.” 

“ Doctor, I shall never make use of this letter of intro- 
duction ; for I consider ” 

“ Pooh, pooh, my good friend !” exclaimed the doctor, 
laughing ; “ waif till you’ve been a year or two in America, 
and all that will come round ; then you’ll bedome what the 
Americans call ‘ smart.’ Take notice of that word ; in 
those five letters is comprised a whole dictionary.” 

Werner was going to reply rather bitterly, but suddenly 
bethinking himself of another course, he bade the other 
“ Good morning,” and leaving the doctor, who stepped into 
a shop near Astor House, turned back, and walked to the 
right, up Broadway. 

There he sought Helldorf, to whom he related the whole 
proceeding ; but Helldorf only laughed, and replied, that it 
was just what he had expected ; that the doctor was a tho- 
rough-bred sharped, and, as he feared, was not content with 
what he had already squeezed out of the Society. 

“ He has other views,” he continued, talking half to him- 
self, u otherwise he would have disappeared immediately 
after the success of his plan — the sale of the land — but we’ll 
observe him, and Heaven have mercy upon him if he gives 
us a hold upon him.” 

The next day was fixed for the departure of the Society 
as well as of Werner ; but the latter had soon completed what 
little arrangements he had to make, and determined to seek 
the Hehrmanns once more, and to pass the last few hours in 
New York, at all events, with them ; he was, however, by 
no means agreeably surprised to find the doctor already 


78 


A WEEK IN NEW YORK. 


there again, and to hear that the latter had determined to 
make the journey as far as Cincinnati (where he gave out 
that he had business) with them. Werner, it is true, soon 
forgot all lesser cares in the absorbing pain of a parting from 
his beloved, for it was in vain to try to conceal from him- 
self with what earnestness his heart clung to the pastor’s 
little daughter ; and he only pressed Helldorf ’s hand in 
silence, when the latter asked him, in a whisper, if he did 
not also think “ that the air of Tennessee would agree parti- 
cularly well with him V 1 

In the meantime, the travellers had many things to ar- 
range, and had their hands full of business ; the committee, 
therefore, gratefully accepted the offer of Dr. Normann, to 
assist the Messrs. Siebert in the care of the freight, while 
Mr. Hehrmann arid Becher, with the help of Werner and 
young Helldorf, endeavoured to procure what conveniences 
they could for the women. 

Dr. Normann, quite in American fashion, had with him 
only a small portmanteau, not much bigger than a knapsack, 
in order, he said, to have his things sent after him subse- 
quently : but the more baggage, on the other hand, did the 
“ allies” carry with them, and the committee began already 
to perceive that it would not have been so much amiss if 
they had paid a little more attention to what the captain of 
the “ Hoffnung” had told them about this. But after dragging 
their goods so far, they considered that they must now go 
through with it, and before long the last article was stowed 
away in the mighty steamer. The New York clocks struck 
five, the boat’s bell rang for the third time, and the ropes and 
planks were drawn in ; the white steam rdle into the clear air 
in puffs, which followed each other more and more quickly — 
the colossus gained life, and the wheels struck and pressed 
with a splash the little waves behind them. The boat pushed 
from the shore — it strove, panting, against the descending 
water — struck the waves away on each side — and now, with 
the mighty power of her boilers and cylinders, the vessel 
dashed forward on her clear and mirror-like course. 

Helldorf tried in vain to drag Werner from the landing- 
place, where, pressed upon by the crowd driving hither and 
thither, he could hardly stand. His eyes hung upon the out- 
lines of the boat, now becoming each minute less distinct, 
where but a few seconds before he thought that he had re- 


TIIE PILGRIMAGE TO THE SETTLEMENT. 


79 


marked the waving of a fluttering handkerchief, and only 
when she had disappeared round a bend in the river, did he 
yield his arm to his friend, and wander silently by his side, 
back into the city. 


CHAPTER III. 

THE PILGRIMAGE TO THE SETTLEMENT. 

As the handsome steamer, panting, foamed up the splen- 
did Hudson river, the Germans were never tired of viewing 
the wonderfully beautiful, yet grand landscape, which, in all 
its glitter, in all its splendour, lay spread out before them. 

The sun, meanwhile, cast his farewell rosy kiss upon the 
silver-clear stream, and the picturesque masses of rock which 
formed its banks, towering towards heaven, and covered with 
a dark-green leafy canopy, glowed in his friendly light with 
such magical beauty as touched the hearts even of the rough 
Oldenburghers, who, absorbed in one continued gaze, quite 
forgot to provide for the comfort of their bodies during the 
long night which was drawing nigh. 

Pastor Hehrmann, lost in deep reflection, stood on the 
broad forepart of the boat; but his eye was not luxuriating in 
the view of the wonders of nature which surrounded him, for 
it gazed dreamily at the red and gold clouds which passed 
slowly across the deep-blue sky. He had left wife and children 
in the cabin, and thought himself alone in his silent medita- 
tion, when he felt the gentle pressure of a hand upon his 
shoulder, and at the same moment his eldest daughter leaned 
her head, with its curled locks, upon his shoulder. 

“ Is it not beautiful here, father ?” said the dear girl, look- 
ing affectionately into his eyes ; “ is it not splendid on this 
wonderful stream ? Oh ! to live here, to be able to call one of 
those charming little country houses one’s own, how delightful 
it would be ! The people must be very good who live here.” 

“ And, why, Bertha ?” asked her father ; “ do you think 
that the beauty of nature alone exercises such an influence 
upon the human heart ? Yes, you are right — it should do 
so ; but, alas, it is just in the most beautiful regions, in 
countries like paradise, that we too often meet with the worst 


80 


THE PILGRIMAGE TO THE SETTLEMENT. 


of men ; that the wildest passions rage ; and it almost seems 
as if where God has poured out the greatest splendour and 
gorgeousness upon the earth, there the human heart has re- 
mained the only spot in which hatred and discord, wicked- 
ness and discontent, could find a harbour. 

“ But I will not wrong the good people of this district,” 
he continued, smiling, when he saw that his daughter looked 
at him rather anxiously. “ I speak of the tropical countries ; 
the population of the Hudson is good ; it is descended from 
the honest old Dutchmen who founded the first settlements 
here, and although the present generation ” 

“ Why so serious, my friends ?” said Dr. Normann, who 
advanced towards them at this moment, and interrupted their 
conversation. “ You admire the steep rocky shore — yes, a 
splendid part of the country, but inconvenient for travelling ; 
one is often compelled to make circuits of some miles to get 
at the river from the land side, and that is, to say the least, 
inconvenient ; but we are in a dangerous vicinity here, for 
yonder is the Haunted Island — yes, yes, the Haunted Island. 
Oh, you need not wonder so, it is here as on the Rhine ; and 
if we have not the old castles, or rather ruins, why every 
rocky promontory, every singularly-formed cliff, every old 
house, has its story and its ghost.” 

“ Oh, pray tell us why it is called the Haunted Island ?” 

“Well, then,” the doctor smiled, “it’s certainly a harm- 
less story, but has cost the inhabitants of this neighbourhood 
many a shake of the head, particularly in earlier times. 
But the Yankees of the present day are a spoiled, unpoetical, 
and any thing but romantic race ; they believe in nothing 
which they cannot grasp with their fists, and take not the 
least interest in any thing, were it even the spirit of their 
own ancestor, unless they expect to derive from it some ma- 
terial benefit or other ; and certainly such is not the case 
with the ‘Haunted Visit.’ ” 

“The Haunted Visit,” said Bertha, her curiosity now 
extremely excited. 

“Yes,” replied Normann, “ and here comes your mother 
and sister, who, perhaps, would also like to hear of our 
spiritual neighbourhood.” The last-named persons joined 
them with a friendly recognition, and the doctor thus began 
his tale : — 

“ Long ago, when the Dutch were still in quiet possession 


THE PILGRIMAGE TO THE SETTLEMENT. 


81 


of this country, which since that time has changed its mas- 
ters more than once, there lived in a little town, on the east 
bank of the river, a man named Van Tromp, who, as he had 
no occupation in particular, served happy indolence in real 
Turkish fashion, loafing up and down the streets as his only 
business, and, like some hawk in search of an unfortunate 
partridge, spying through the still streets after some yet 
more unfortunate acquaintance. No sooner did he see a 
victim, than in a few bounds he overtook him, and unless the 
fated one chose to sacrifice a button, he was obliged to endure 
and listen to the story which Van Tromp had in store for 
him, and which most likely he had already heard from his 
own mouth many times before. 

“ Once upon a time, when, in this manner, he had 
stepped on board of a little trading cutter, (which in those 
days, before there were any steamers, navigated the Hud- 
son,) and had there entangled the cook in a highly interest- 
ing conversation — on which occasion he related to him, for 
the seventeenth time, how cunningly he had managed to 
escape being married — he missed the departure of the little 
boat, and as he could not spring ashore again, he resigned 
himself to his fate, viz., to remain on board until, in the 
course of a given number of days, the vessel should re- 
turn. 

“ But here a particular and peculiar misfortune befell him ; 
under way — namely, when wearied out with story-telling — he 
had stretched himself out upon deck, and had fallen asleep ; 
the vessel tacked, the large sprit-sail swept over the deck, 
and Van Tromp, whom nobody thought about, was shoved 
overboard by the heavy boom. Some affirm that the whole 
vessel capsized ; but probably that is a fable. Be that as it 
may, Van Tromp sank like a stone, and suddenly found him- 
self — and you may conceive his surprise — at the bottom of 
the Hudson, among the spirits of those who, during past cen- 
turies, had perished there. 

“ He might have been very well off here, for, according to 
the most authentic intelligence, they lead a very jolly life in 
the blue depths down below there ; but his eternal propensity 
to tell stories, which did not forsake him in his new abode, 
soon drove away all good company from him. In the be- 
ginning — yes, whilst his anecdotes were yet new — they put 
up with it ; but when the same, and still the same, were con- 

5 


82 


THE PILGRIMAGE TO THE SETTLEMENT. 


stantly repeated, and the poor drowned folks had no hope of 
getting rid of their tedious story-teller till the day of judg- 
ment, it was then that they resolved, in a council especially 
called for the purpose, to evade their otherwise immutable 
laws, for Van Tromp’s benefit as well as their own, and to 
permit the former to visit the earth again ; only, however, in 
the form of a living man, in order not to excite any unneces- 
sary consternaation among the peaceful dwellers on the 
Hudson. 

“Van Tromp was now happy, and soon made excursions 
through the streets of his native place again, although in a 
new form. But of what use was this change ? Of what use 
were the different voice and varying clothes — the stories re- 
mained the same — word for word did they come back again, 
as though read from some ancient chronicle ; and in a few 
days he began to be avoided. The rumour that the drowned 
man had come back, and in a different shape, and was wander- 
ing among them, spread like wildfire through the little town, 
and scarce had he time to commence one of his old anec- 
dotes, before the auditors, with complete indifference to their 
buttons, and even to whole pieces of lining, sprang Jback in 
terror and fled from their spectral neighbour. 

“ The natural consequence was, that Van Tromp became 
misanthropical, sought out lonesome places, talked to himself, 
and at last withdrew to this island, which we have just now 
passed, in order no longer to waste his stories upon a genera- 
tion that was unworthy of them. There you have the simple 
story of the ‘ Haunted Visit , 5 and every farmer upon these 
banks here can relate his particular stories drawn from Van 
Tromp’s life . 55 

Several other Germans, also passengers on board the 
steamer, now joined them, and anecdotes and legends followed 
each other until darkness and the damp air from the river 
compelled all to seek the interior of the vessel. 

The remainder of the society had meanwhile passed their 
time in a similar manner, only that the four friends — Schmidt, 
the shoemaker, the tailor, and the brewer — for whom the 
landscape had fewer attractions, spread out a due quantity of 
provisions between them, and were busied in doing ample 
justice to them. But when it suddenly became dark (which, 
to their surprise, it did with wonderful rapidity, for in New 
York they had not noticed the speedy approach of night) 


THE PILGRIMAGE TO THE SETTLEMENT. 


83 


they found themselves in the highly disagreeable position of 
people who are very tired, and have no place where they can 
properly rest themselves. 

“ It is very wrong,” the shoemaker said, “ not to give one 
so much as a bottle of straw. Surely one can’t walk about 
all night.” 

“ I should like to lie down on the bare boards,” said the 
brewer, looking about him, “ but these disgusting people do 
nothing but spit, and in every direction too, so that one can 
hardly find a clean place the size of one’s foot. What fel- 
lows they are ! Why, sandmen among us behave themselves 
better.” 

“ When shall we get to Albany, do you think ?” asked 
Schmidt of one of the engineers, who was pouring some oil 
on the engine out of a small can. 

“ Nix versteh !” said the American, shaking his head ; 
“ no Dutchman !” 

“Well, then, you need not call names, if you don’t,” 
exclaimed the brewer, testily, in a loud voice, so that the man 
who was addressed turned round surprised. 

“ Don’t be a fool !” said the tailor, taking hold of the an- 
gry man’s arm ; “ do you think you will sleep any the better 
for getting your hide full of blows ?” 

“But it’s true, what business had the fellow to talk about 
‘ Doetsch V ” 

“ Where can the committee be ?” Schmidt now asked ; 
“ and I’ve seen nothing of the Oldenburghers either, since 
we’ve been aboard.” 

“ Who knows where they’ve poked themselves to ?” 
grunted the shoemaker, wrapping himself up more closely 
in an old mantle with a hundred or so of capes. “ I shall 
seat myself in a corner and wait till daylight ; I’m tired of 
standing about.” The others followed his example ; and 
soon, in the wide, and sparingly and weakly lighted lower 
deck of the great boat, groups of sleepy passengers sat or lay 
about in all directions, some with their heads resting upon 
their luggage, some alongside of a chest, and passed the 
night by no means conveniently, for in addition to their other 
discomforts, the cool river air blew in from all sides of the 
open boat, feeling any thing but beneficial, and awakening 
lively longings in the hearts of the travellers for a warm bed. 

Day broke at last, and with it the call, “ Ashore, ashore !” 


84 


THE PILGRIMAGE TO THE SETTLEMENT. 


came to disturb them from the first slumber, into which, 
tired with long watching, and yielding to over- weariness, they 
had just sunk. The boat was going alongside the quay at 
Albany, and the freight was soon after got ashore, as the 
captain had to return to New York the same morning. 

Dr. Normann meanwhile undertook to conduct the ladies 
to an inn not far off, whilst the settlers (for this was the 
name which the society had now assumed) had enough to do 
to receive the freight, and get it up to the somewhat distant 
railway. The journey was to be continued hence, by the 
doctor’s advice, by rail as far as Utica, and here the convic- 
tion forced itself upon the settlers that they carried too much 
luggage with them, for the carriage by railway was not in- 
considerable, and the constant packing away, and moving 
backwards and forwards highly inconvenient and expensive. 
But the discovery was of no use : the constant consolation 
was, “ we have brought it so far, and certainly can’t leave it 
now that we are near the end of our journey.” 

But the end of their journey was not reached so soon as 
they expected, and they had yet many inconveniences to meet 
before they could hope to arrive qt the spot which was to be 
the scene of their future labours and of their domestic repose. 

They reached Utica that night. Here the unpacking of 
all their wares and utensils took place again, and all had to 
be got to the canal, where two boats were lying ready to start 
immediately for Buffalo. 

The unlading and removal in the night formed a very 
troublesome business, and the settlers would have grumbled 
a good deal had not Pastor Hehrmann, the younger Siebert, 
and Mr. Herbold, shown themselves particularly active and 
attentive on the occasion ; but as they lent a hand every 
where, all was soon got through, and in less than an hour the 
horn of the master of the boat blew for departure. 

The brewer and the tailor had escaped work this time, 
and associated themselves with the remaining members of the 
committee ; for scarcely had they descended from the rail- 
way carriages before a very elegant hackney-coach drew up, 
and a young man opened the door for them. Now, although 
M. Von Schwanthal, Siebert senior, Mr. Becher, and Dr. 
Normann with Pastor Hehrmann’s family, had got into two 
other coaches, yet the two who remained behind did not care 
to waste their money so thoughtlessly, and the tailor politely 
declined, saying — * 


THE PILGRIMAGE TO THE SETTLEMENT. 


85 


“ Much obliged, but riding don’t agree with us.” 

“ It costs nothing,” replied the young man, who had 
opened the door for them, civilly, and in good German ; “ it 
belongs to the railroad.” 

“ Nothing at all ?” asked the brewer, distrustfully. 

“ Not a cent !” the other assured him. The word was a 
lever that raised the little tailor like a spring into a corner 
of the vehicle, where, when the brewer had somewhat more 
slowly followed him, he comfortably rubbed his hands, and, 
laughing, exclaimed — 

“ Now it agrees with me, and if it went as far as Buf- 
falo !” 

It did not go to Buffalo, however, but scarcely a hun- 
dred yards off, to a brilliantly lighted up hotel, where both of 
them, not a little taken aback, were ushered into a large 
dining-room. There was certainly no time to be lost here, 
and the tailor, following the example of the brewer, seated 
himself at one corner of the long table, at which their fellow 
travellers from the cabin had also just taken their places. 
In a moment a cup of tea was handed to them, and in like 
manner successively several plates with various meats and 
confectionery. Both, however, ate very moderately, declined 
a second cup of tea, and rose again from table, where they 
had not felt much at their ease all the time, although a mass 
of provisions, heaped upon a multitude of small plates, cov- 
ered the board, and three very pretty young women were 
constantly pressing them to take first one and then another 
dish. 

“ What have we to pay ?” asked the brewer, at last, of 
one of the young women, as he could see no waiter. The 
pretty girl, however, only laughed and shook her head. She 
understood no German. 

“ What have we to pay ?” the tailor (who appeared to 
think that the girl must be hard of hearing) now cried, so 
that she started back and looked in amazement at the little 
thin figure. But another of the girls standing near, called 
out a few words in English to the first, who now smilingly 
advanced, and said “ Fifty cents.” 

“ Fifty cents,” repeated the other, translating it into Ger- 
man — “ fifty cents each person ?” 

“ Fifty cents apiece ?” asked the brewer, alarmed ; and, 
turning to the tailor, “ I say, why that’s a gulden !” 


86 


THE PILGRIMAGE TO THE SETTLEMENT. 


“ Sixteen gute groschen for one cup of tea!” grumbled 
the little man in a low tone to himself, but pulled out his 
meagre purse and paid it : so did the brewer, and both quick- 
ly left the brilliantly lighted house, for Meier (that was the 
tailor’s name) anxiously remarked that they should have to 
pay for the lights if they staid much longer. 

They stood still as soon as they got out of the door, and 
looked at each other, half in surprise half in grief. 

“ Sixteen gute groschen for one cup of tea !” repeated 
the tailor, with pathos : “ half a Spanish dollar of good hard 
money.” 

“ And I’m as hungry as a lion,” said the brewer ; “ I 
ate nothing on purpose, because I thought we should other- 
wise have too much to pay.” 

“ That’s just my case,” complained Meier. “ Sixteen 
gute groschen and nothing to eat ! But, I say, we must not 
tell about this !” 

“ No, if you could only hold your jaw !” 

“Not a syllable,” the little man declared. 

At that moment, the horn of the canal boat was heard, 
and several men with lanterns came towards the tavern to 
fetch such of the passengers as were missing, and who ac- 
cordingly immediately proceeded on board. It was not, how- 
ever, till the following morning that they were able to make 
themselves a little acquainted with surrounding objects on 
board the conveyance itself. 

The canal, bordered by two good walls, might perhaps 
be from twenty-five to thirty feet wide, and boats meeting 
each other could only pass at certain places. Along the 
sides were good broad roads, and three horses were harness- 
ed to the long tow-rope of each boat, but they did not hurry 
themselves much, for the whip of the rider was seldom able 
to get them beyond a walk. The canal boat itself was clinker 
built, and about seventy or eighty feet long and fourteen 
broad ; but the after and fore parts, divided into cabins, were 
alone used for the passengers, while the centre was solely 
arranged for and devoted to freight. In the first boat were 
the Oldenburghers, our four friends, (Schmidt, the brewer, 
the shoemaker, and the tailor,) several Saxon peasants with 
their families, the cabinet-maker, and the glazier. In the 
second, on the other hand, were the committee, with the re- 


THE PILGRIMAGE TO THE SETTLEMENT. 


87 


mainder of the travellers, so that the whole number of pas- 
sengers were pretty equally divided. 

As to the passage-money, the committee had only under- 
taken to defray the freight of the cargo ; it was left to the 
travellers to pay their own fares, and to provide themselves 
with provisions for their journey, which of course made it 
optional with them either to be boarded in the boat or to sup- 
ply themselves. 

The first boat chose the latter mode unconditionally, which 
resolution was influenced not a little by the tailor’s relation of 
the imposition of the preceding evening, for Meier could not 
find it in his heart to keep the secret of their dreadful ex- 
pense. They consequently bargained for all such articles as 
appeared to them necessary for a journey of several days, at 
the grocery stores (or shops), of which there were plenty 
every where near the canal, and which chiefly contained such 
things as served for the convenience of travellers ; and they 
fared, if not so well or so conveniently as the committee, who 
preferred having their board provided for them, yet much 
more cheaply, and that was the . principal thing in their then 
circumstances. 

They felt most uncomfortable at night, when, for the sake 
of room, they were put into hammocks, which were sus- 
pended in rows of three, one above another, from the side. 
In the second night the ropes at the head of the shoemaker, 
who just then was dreaming uneasily about robbers and wild 
beasts, gave way, and his head tumbling down, while his 
legs remained in the air, he awoke, with such a cry, that 
all jumped out and came about him. It was some time 
before they could pacify him, and at first he stared at 
the tailor who was shaking him, with such wild rolling 
eyes, that the latter let him go, and sprang a step back- 
wards. 

The travelling in the canal-boat was very slow; the 
roads (as it rained during a couple of hours each night) w’ere 
bad, and almost bottomless, and in many places the horses 
could scarcely wade through the mud ; but for this one must 
be prepared in all travelling by canal. It is slow work, and 
the only chance of enjoyment which a traveller on such a 
ride has, is to walk afoot alongside when he can. In places 
where the road was tolerably elevated and dry, the passen- 


88 


THE PILGRIMAGE TO THE SETTLEMENT. 


gers often got out and wandered for miles beside the long 
ark-like box. 

In the meanwhile, earnest debates had arisen in the second 
boat, and that as to the name of the future town which they 
were about to found. Siebert, senior, was unhesitatingly for 
“ Teutonia,” while the junior considered “ Hermannstadt ” 
more suitable ; Becher was for calling it “ Roma,” and Von 
Schwanthal was of opinion that it must be called the “ Hoff- 
nung” (Hope), as they had begun their journey in the “ HofF- 
nung” Parson Hehrmann supported the latter, and Herbold 
alone expressed himself very decidedly against all such 
German-sounding names, and required that it should be called 
“ Concordia.” As he had Dr. Normann and the ladies on his 
side, he carried off the victory at this extraordinary meeting 
by an overwhelming majority, and the town was provisionally 
christened “ Concordia,” with a reservation, of course, to take 
the opinions of all the settlers on the subject. Some hours 
might have elapsed when the boats stopped at a small town, 
both to change horses and to unload a great portion of the 
cargo — at least, of the foremost boat. Here the whole of 
the passengers came together once more, and the debate about 
the name began again. 

“Concordia!” exclaimed the shoemaker. “ No, much 
obliged — that name won’t suit ; we are regular Germans, 
and I don’t see why we should have such a foreign word as 
that. The pastor’s name pleases me better, ‘ HofFnung.’ ” 

“ Shoemaker’s-hope !” laughed the little tailor, giving 
him a poke in the ribs ; “ that would sound well.” 

“ Or Tailor’s-cabbage !” grumbled the other, in return. 

“ But,” expostulated Mr. Becher, “‘Concordia’ means 
Union, and union, you know, is to reign among us.” 

“ Well, then, why not call it, ‘ Union’ at once ?” asked 
the shoemaker in surprise. “ Why have such a far-fetched 
expression, which half of us don’t understand ?” 

“ Can’t you understand Concordia ?” smiled the cabinet- 
maker. 

“ No, nor you neither, however you may make believe !” 

“ The shoemaker is right,” Meier opined ; “ we’ll chris- 
ten it ‘ Union’ — that sounds better.” 

“ Or ‘ Harmony !’ ” suggested the cabinet-maker. 

“ Why not ‘ Harmonika’ at once. Would you call the 


THE TILGRIMAGE TO THE SETTLEMENT. 


89 


town after a public house !” exclaimed the brewer. “ Well, 
what next, I wonder V* 

“ My good people,” said the Pastor Hehrmann, inter- 
rupting them, no object’ is gained by this dispute. Besides, 
I don’t see at all why we should puzzle our brains at present 
about a name, seeing that the town which is to receive it 
does not exist yet ; the child has to be born before it can be 
christened.” 

“ But why not discuss an affair which hereafter will be by 
no means unimportant, and for which we have ample leisure 
just now V 1 said Siebert, senior. “ For my part, I should 
wish for a ballot ; every body can write a name which he 
has thought of for the future town, upon a slip of paper, and 
let the majority decide.” 

“ Yes, that’s it — we’ll do that !” all exclaimed. Slips 
were soon distributed — every one quickly committed his 
favourite name to paper by circulating pencils, and threw 
the slips into the hat of Mr. Becher, who went round to col- 
lect them. 

A sheet of paper was then taken, and M. Von Schwan- 
thal volunteered to act as secretary, and to write down the 
names as they were read over, and from these to determine 
which had the majority. 

But what names came to light then ! — Oldenburgh, 
Merseburgh, Osterholz, Sittensen, Helgoland, Saxony, Ger- 
many, Hildburghausen, Dresden, Bremen, Happy Hope, 
Goldland, Germania ; and, nearly towards the last — amidst 
universal laughter — “ Anna Maria.” “ Concordia” had 
only four votes ; but pastor Hehrmann and Von Schwan- 
thal’s “ Hoffnung” was successful : a great number of the 
others had adopted this, and “ Hoffnung” was read over 
eleven times ; consequently, as having a majority of voices, 
it was pronounced to be the name of the town which was to 
be built. 

“ Aboard ! — aboard !” the voice of the boatman now 
exclaimed. “ All aboard ! we have stayed here long 
enough !” 

The command was speedily attended to, and both boats 
were, before long, under way again. The weather, which 
hitherto had been dull and foggy, now cleared up complete- 
ly, and a fresh east wind rustled through the shadowy tree- 
tops, and rendered the journey a highly agreeable pleasure 

5 * 


90 


THE PILGRIMAGE TO THE SETTLEMENT. 


excursion. The passengers might have passed their time 
very well and pleasantly upon deck, had not the bridges, 
which followed each other at short intervals, proved a great 
hinderance, for every moment the call, “ Look out !” disturb- 
ed them, and immediately afterwards, the boat glided so 
closely under the beams that they were compelled to lie flat 
down upon their faces, to avoid being pushed off. 

“We are coming presently to a couple of very low 
bridges,” said the man at the helm to the passengers of the 
foremost boat, who were bivouacked about the deck in pic- 
turesque attitudes, and were beguiling their time partly by 
stories, and partly by card-playing. “ They are much lower 
than those we have passed,” he continued, when he saw that 
his first warning was unheeded ; “ and besides, we have 
taken a great deal of the cargo out of this boat, which will 
therefore graze much nearer to the timbers than the hind- 
most boat. You had better go below.” 

For awhile, all remained lying still ; at last, however, the 
tailor rose, and said, “ No ; I can’t swim, and I don’t want 
to be shoved overboard ! Come along !” 

Most of them followed him. The glazier alone lay where 
he was, saying, with a yawn, “ I need not stand up — it’s 
much pleasanter here than below, in that box !” 

The rest slowly retired to the interior of the boat. The 
shoemaker and brewer alone stood beside the helmsman, and 
looked back at the second boat, which followed at the dis- 
tance of a hundred yards. 

“ I say !” remarked the brewer, laughing, “ won’t it sound 
comical, when our town is built, and people say — 1 It’s so 
many miles to the Hoflnung (Hope),’ or, 4 1 live near to the 
Hope?’ or, ‘I live in the Hope, No. 7, on the third floor;’ 
people will think it is a public house ! What name did you 
vote for ?” 

The shoemaker would, doubtless, have replied, if both he 
and the brewer had not forgotten the question ; for in the 
same moment they saw that the helmsman stooped down, 
heard the loud laugh of the glazier, and just as they were 
turning round, were seized by the low bridge, and unmerci- 
fully shoved overboard, head foremost. But the canal was 
not deep, and they soon re-appeared, spluttering and blowing, 
and had the satisfaction, besides, of being well laughed at from 
the second boat, in which all pressed to the windows and to 


THE PILGRIMAGE TO THE SETTLEMENT. 


91 


the entrance. When they got on board again, of course they 
were obliged to change their clothes ; but they avoided com- 
ing too near the helmsman, as the tailor would have it that 
he had done it on purpose. 

The glazier had enjoyed the joke royally, but would not 
leave the deck, although the American at the helm assured 
him that the next bridge was lower still. Stretching him- 
self comfortably, he declared that that was the best place in 
the whole boat — and remained. 

All the passengers, with the exception of this one, were 
employed in various ways in the interior of the boat, when 
suddenly the voice of the helmsman was heard. “ Take 
care !” he cried ; but with so loud, so anxious a voice, the 
warning seemed so earnest and urgent, that all, as if seized 
by something which they could not explain, remained mo- 
tionless, in the attitudes they were in, and a deathlike silence 
ensued. But this was broken by such a fearful yell, that it 
made the blood even of the bravest run cold. Immediately 
afterwards the former stillness prevailed, and the settlers 
heard the steersman call to the drivers to stop the horses, 
while he jumped upon deck. All now rushed up, to see 
what could have happened, to drive even the quiet Pennsyl- 
vanian from his post. But what a horrible spectacle pre- 
sented itself to their view ! Pressed together, with his head 
shattered and his clothes torn, the glazier lay there — a corpse, 
and the American turned away with a shudder, when, on 
attempting to raise his head with his hand, he saw the brain, 
which pressed out of the wound. The dreadful event was 
explained in few words — the man had remained on deck in 
spite of all warnings, the bridge had struck him, and unfor- 
tunately his head was raised upon his arms, which hastened 
the certain death. 

All assembled round the body ; but help had come too 
late ; and the conductor was compelled to proceed, in order 
to give notice to the authorities of the next town of what had 
occurred, and to bury the remains there. Fortunately, the 
place was not far distant ; and the horses, as though wishing 
to flee from the fearful load which they dragged after them, 
put all their strength and mettle to the draught. In less than 
an hour, the boat stopped alongside of the broad masonry 
quay of the canal, whence the news of -the casualty quickly 
spread, and half the town came out to the boat. 


92 


THE PILGRIMAGE TO THE SETTLEMENT. 


The settlers had to leave the burial of the body to some 
of their German countrymen resident there, as the boats 
would not wait so long on any condition ; and paying the ex- 
penses out of the little stock of the deceased, they quitted, 
with any thing but cheerful feelings, the spot where they had 
left the first of their company dead behind them. 

It was some time, too, before the former easy tone was 
resumed. The people had become dejected ; for the quick 
putting aside of the body, the little ceremony there was made 
in taking it away, gave them a glimpse of the little value 
that human life bore in their new home. Pastor Hehrmann 
was particularly affected by the calamity, and exhorted the 
young people again, in the most earnest manner, to follow 
the warnings of the Americans, who must, of course, be 
best acquainted with the dangers of their own land. 

The boats approached the little town of Lockport, where 
one of them was to take in further cargo. The captain, 
however, collected the passage-money before they arrived 
here, lest any of his passengers might step on shore, and for- 
get to return. The fares were paid by each of the settlers, 
as agreed upon, out of their own pockets. Mr. Siebert, now, 
began to confess that they had, perhaps, brought some things 
which were not absolutely necessary to their progress, par- 
ticularly as he now, for the first time, noticed that the Ger- 
man implements differed essentially from the American. 
His voice, however, found no echo, and the old story — 
“ We’ve brought them so far with us, and can’t leave them 
now,” again silenced every objection. 

The boats were to remain half a day at Lockport, and 
the American advised the Germans to ride over and see the 
Falls of Niagara, from which they were not very distant, 
and whither the locomotive would carry them in a very short 
time. 

Pastor Hehrmann determined at once to give his family 
the treat of this grand view, and Mr. Becher, M. Von 
Schwanthal, and Dr. Normann offered to accompany them ; 
the rest did not think it worth while to undertake a journey 
expressly on account of a waterfall, but determined, instead, 
on viewing the surrounding country, and left the boat before 
its arrival at the town, so as to reach there about noon. 

It was late before the whole company assembled again 
from their various expeditions. The Niagara excursionists 


THE PILGRIMAGE TO THE SETTLEMENT. 


93 


were quite delighted with the lofty and wonderful spectacle 
which they had enjoyed, and the others, especially the 
country people, were equally astonished at the singular 
agricultural arrangements which they had met with. 
Schmidt, especially, could not contain himself, for he had 
met with a couple of fellow countrymen at Lockport, and 
had learnt a thousand different matters from them, which it 
cost him the greatest possible trouble to believe. 

“ Round every little field, even if it were only half an 
acre, there is what they call a fence, ”* he kept constantly 

* Fences, in America, are formed of poles of wood, split lengthwise, 
which ordinarily surround the fields in a zig-zag form, and are intended 
to preserve the grain from the cattle, which run about freely. In the 
West, where ihere is wood in abundance, this arrangement is universal ; 
but in the East, and particularly in the vicinity of towns, they are be- 
ginning to raise quickset hedges, or at least to apply the wood in the 
most economical way, so as to make as little wood as possible surround 
a great space . — Note by the Author. 

Many old countrymen, upon their first arrival in America, are dis- 
gusted with the rail fences, and talk about the quickset hedges which 
they will have upon their land ; but it all ends in talk. Wood is adopted 
for fences in America, as well because of its abundance as because the 
white and black thorns, used in quickset hedges in England, although 
they grow, yet do not generally thrive there ; besides, the planting, fill- 
ing up gaps, pruning, ditching, &c., requires much labour, and that is 
expensive there. Cattle, also, are so used to the bush, that they would 
make no difficulty in walking through a quickset hedge, unless it were 
many years old, and well made. Every man can swing the axe there, 
and most of their woods grow tall in the stem, without knots or branches, 
for fifty feet or so, and split readily, sometimes even without the wedge. 
They therefore cut trees, such as ash, oak, elm, birch, and (for the lower 
rails, to resist the effects of wet) cedar, into twelve or sixteen feet 
lengths, and then split them, either with the axe alone, or with the 
assistance of a mall and wedges, into rails of a convenient thickness. 
These are laid upon the surface of the ground in zig-zag, as mentioned 
by the author, each overlapping the other by six inches or so, and so on 
to the height of from six to twelve feet, and, in well-made fences, stakes 
are also -driven firmly into the ground, near the places where the rails 
meet, one inside and one outside of the fence, at an inclination towards 
it, their points meeting and crossing each other at the junction of the top 
rails, and forming, by such crossing, a receptacle for a heavy rail or 
rider, as it is called, which tops it all, and serves to give the whole sta- 
bility ; thus all nails and iron-work, which are expensive, or wooden pegs, 
which would require labour, are dispensed with, and a fence is obtained, 
having nearly the strength of a brick wall, and capable of restraining 
cattle. Fences without stakes and riders are also used, especially for 
temporary purposes, supporting themselves by the zig-zag ground-plan 
and their own weight, but are liable to be invaded by a breachy ox, and 


94 


THE PILGRIMAGE TO THE SETTLEMENT. 


repeating : “ why one will have nothing else to do, all one’s 
life, but to chop wood and split it.” 

“ I should like to know what I’m to do here,” said a lock- 
smith, who had been into one of the log-houses ; “ why every 
thing is made of wood here that we make of iron. The 
fences may be all very well ; but when it comes to hasps, 
and hinges, and door-locks of wood — why, there is an end of 
every thing.” 

“ Well, thus much I can see,” said the tailor, “ they don’t 
use carpets in their houses, that’s certain ; and as to their 
having wooden locks, that seems to me quite natural ; I 
should like to see the thief that could find any thing in them 
worth carrying away.” 

“ They’ve got no wheels to their ploughs,” said Schmidt ; 
“ not the least vestige of a wheel.” 

“ And one is not safe of one’s life in the street !” ex- 
claimed the tailor : “ a drove of cows comes along every 
moment ; five times have I been obliged to climb up to the 
top of one of their high fences ; every time the great brutes 
looked at me as though they would eat me. But — halloo ! 
there’s the horn blowing again ; the boats are off ; so now 
for Buffalo !” 

It was nearly evening when they resumed their journey, 
and consequently it was night when they reached Buffalo, on 
Lake Erie, and they remained on board the canal-boat until 

are also more liable to be put out of their position. An ox is, in America, 
termed “ breachy ” when he has learned to lift the rails off with his horns, 
which he does by the ends one' after another, like any Christian, until it 
is low enough for him to step over ; but if properly staked and ridered 
he cannot do so. Such oxen are not very common, but never can be 
cured of the habit, and however well they may work in the yoke, have 
to be fattened and killed forthwith. When the two or three lower rails, 
and also the stakes are of wood, capable of resisting the effect of damp, 
such as cedar, black ash, &c.,a well-made fence will last for an indefinite 
number of years, but otherwise seven or eight years suffice to rot 
the lower rails, and to make constant patching necessary, which is al- 
most as bad as making a new fence, for, to get at one of the lower rails, 
the fence has to be taken down for many lengths on each side, and never 
can be relaid so well. In the Canadas, and the Northwestern states of 
the Union, the ground, during winter, is covered with snow, for a distance 
of ten degrees and more south of corresponding latitudes in the Old 
World, and this is the season when the timber is easily got out of the 
bush, or of the swamps, into the clearings, either on low sleighs, or by 
being snagged — that is, dragged out by oxen and a logging chain. — T r. 


THE PILGRIMAGE TO THE SETTLEMENT. 


95 


the following morning. A steamer was to leave at ten 
o’clock for Cleveland, across Lake Erie, and Dr. Normann 
advised them not to neglect the opportunity of going by her, 
as they would thereby continue their journey most speedily, 
and also most cheaply. 

The cargo had now to be transhipped for the fourth time, 
and in Cleveland yet again, to a canal-boat, as far as Ports- 
mouth ; and in Portsmouth, for the last time, to another 
steamer. The treasurer now clearly saw that the .cash in 
hand would only be sufficient for the payment of the freight, 
and perhaps would scarcely suffice for that ; he therefore pro- 
posed, either to sell a portion of their goods, or else to leave 
them behind, as there were daily opportunities of forwarding 
them to the Ohio and the Mississippi. However much a 
large section of the settlers might still be opposed to this 
measure, yet the majority saw at last that it was necessary 
that something should be done, which ought indeed to 
have been done long since, and, after lengthy debates, the 
committee was authorized to sell a portion of the utensils. 
But however the society might debate about the matter, 
it was impossible to carry it out, for if the committee had 
had as many days as it had hours for the purpose of carry- 
ing into effect such a sale, it would even then have striven 
in vain ; for, in the first place, the settlers could not agj?ee 
concerning the particular articles which were to be parted 
with, and, in the next place, there was no buyer to be found, 
even at the most reasonable prices ; there was only one 
blacksmith who came forward, and he would only pay them 
for certain articles valued as old iron. This was rather too 
much of a good thing, and the suggestion of the landlord of 
the tavern, where they had put up for the short time, was 
gratefully accepted — viz., to leave the things in an old out- 
building, which in winter served for a wood-shed, until they 
should be inquired for. 

According to the advice of several Germans there, they 
took with them, besides two carts and a wagon, which, if 
sold, must have been replaced hereafter at a high price, 
(although no more than their freight came to,) only some 
saws, chains, and axes, and scarcely left themselves time to 
get the rest on board the “ Ontario ” steamer, which soon 
after rang her bell and commenced her passage to Cleve- 
land, whereby they were compelled to leave their remaining 


96 


THE PILGRIMAGE TO THE SETTLEMENT. 


things exposed on the water-side. The landlord, however, 
promised to take care of every thing for them, that they need 
not make themselves anxious about it, and swung his cap 
after them besides, as long as he could see them. 

They reached Cleveland in the night ; had to unload 
there, for the fifth time, and get themselves and their things 
into a canal-boat, which bore them through Ohio State to the 
Ohio river, at the little town of Portsmouth ; and it was here 
that they got on board the steamer which was to take them 
to the mouth of the Big Hatchee, and consequently to within 
about fifteen miles of their destination, the projected town of 
“ Hoffnung.” 

In Portsmouth, again, they only stopped as long as was 
necessary to remove their things on board, for when they 
arrived, the steamer was on the point of pushing off, and was 
only prevailed upon to wait for a short time by the prospect 
of the large number of passengers. Any bargaining for 
freight or passage-money was therefore out of the question, 
and before they were aware of it they saw themselves on the 
broad Ohio, gliding past its picturesquely beautiful banks. 

“ A fine voyage this is !” growled the brewer, when he 
got time, at last, to seat himself, weary and tired, on the large 
chest which contained his clothes and linen ; — “ one eternal 
driving — one eternal lugging about. How often have I had 
to haul this cursed box out of one boat into another. Thank 
Heaven, this is the last !” 

“ Pm better off there laughed the tailor, “ my luggage 
is soon got across ; this little knapsack ; the hat-box — the hat 
lies in the church — and this handkerchief, with the biscuit 
and sausage in it, are all my riches. But, I say, brewer, 
between ourselves, who is to pay our passage-money when 
we’ve got no more ?” 

“ Why, we’re nearly there,” replied the brewer. 

“Yes; but at present,” said the tailor, pulling a long 
face, “ I’m regularly stumped !” 

“ No more money ?” 

“ Not a rap.” 

“Well!” cried the brewer, astonished, “that’s a good 
one ; the committee will look rather glum.” 

“ Listen,” said the shoemaker, who advanced towards 
them at this moment, “ I’ve got something on my mind which 
I should like to tell you.” 


THE PILGRIMAGE TO THE SETTLEMENT. 


97 


“ Out with it,” ejaculated the brewer, encouragingly. 

“ I have no more money !” 

“ Come to my heart, companion of my sorrow !” spouted 
the tailor, in the mock-heroic style, “ now I’m no longer 
afraid ; now there are two of us, the thing is getting 
common.” 

“ Well, I’ll be hanged if I can see the comfort of that,” 
remarked the brewer, shaking his head ; “ the best thing 
you can do is to go to the committee and let them consider 
the matter.” 

At this moment they were called by one of the Olden- 
burghers to the after-deck, where all the settlers were 
assembled, (for.only Hehrmann’s wife and daughters and Dr. 
Normann had taken cabin passages,) in order to confer on 
an important subject. Five other members of the society 
had announced themselves to the committee as no longer 
possessing any money to defray their further travelling ex- 
penses, and had applied for the assistance of the community. 
They promised to work out every advance as soon as they 
should get to their destination. The tailor had his name and 
the shoemaker’s immediately placed on the list, and the 
question now only remained, whether this money was to be 
supplied out of the funds in hand or by contributions. 

Mr. Siebert, senior, opposed the former proposition with 
might and main, and produced the accounts which he had 
kept of freight and transport expenses, which, notwithstanding 
all the bargaining, alone amounted to a hundred and sixty 
dollars ; so that the whole finances amounted only to about 
sixty dollars, while they were still twelve hundred miles from 
their new abode. 

There was not much to be objected to this — the matter 
was too clear ; but new difficulties presented themselves 
when it came to raising a subscription in order to pay the 
passage money of their fellow-travellers. The Oldenbur- 
ghers formally opposed it, and declared that they, too, pos- 
sessed nothing more, and wished also to be put upon the list. 

Mr. Siebert had behaved rather passively and indifferently 
hitherto, but now he came out, and requested all present to 
give him their attention for a short time. When all was 
silent, he turned towards his fellow-travellers, and, quiet and 
self-possessed, thus addressed them : — 

“ Gentlemen, we have come to that point in which our 


98 


TIIE PILGRIMAGE TO THE SETTLEMENT. 


future fortunes, our future relations to each other, must be 
ascertained. What was our intention when we forsook our 
native land? We intended to found a new home for our- 
selves — we intended to buy a strip of land, and to become 
farmers. We have got the land — but more is required for 
farming besides land merely. We must, as soon as we reach 
our destination, procure, not provisions alone, but also utensils 
for the tillage of the soil, for the erection of warmer and more 
substantial habitations ; we must purchase cattle ; for how- 
ever easily cattle may increase in this new country, still, 
above all things, the stock mu4 first exist ; we must have 
horses to draw the ploughs which are to prepare our fields. 
For all this, money is required — money, much money; and 
if we are not in a condition to raise that, why, our settlement 
ceases at once, even before it has begun. 

“All this, moreover, was well known to you before we 
left Bremen, and all then expressed themselves ready to 
satisfy such requisitions as had for their object the founding 
and maintenance of our new colony, to the best of their 
ability, and with cheerfulness. Shall we now, when the 
string is first touched, go back from this ? Or does not the 
assistance of the members (who are necessary to the preser- 
vation of the whole) conduce to the general good ? Assuredly 
it does — and is a principal condition of the whole. But, as 
we have touched upon this subject now, I must go back to 
our earlier plan, and remind you that the period has now 
arrived to put it into execution. Let every one contribute, 
according to his ability, towards the common fund, of which 
an accurate account will be kept ; and the amount subscribed, 
let it be ever so small, shall yield interest at four per cent., 
as pre-arranged ; while, as actual occupiers of the land, the 
lenders’ money is perfectly secured. Besides, this is a sub- 
ject long since and frequently discussed ; I have even the 
list here upon which each of you have entered how much 
(about) he should be able and willing to come forward with ; 
the question, therefore, only is, whether you will perform 
your former engagements — whether, in fact, generally, you 
are minded to carry out your former plans ; for now the 
time has come for ascertaining this. As it concerns a ques- 
tion, moreover, which you would probably wish to consider, 
I request your reply this afternoon.” 

The meeting now adjourned, and stormy debates com- 


THE PILGRIMAGE TO THE SETTLEMENT. 


99 


menced, for the Emigrants were once more to touch their 
funds, and that to a more considerable extent than before, 
and to place their last money in the hands of the committee, 
whom they thereby virtually invested with absolute authority, 
for they made themselves entirely dependent upon them. 
They considered the matter backwards and forwards ; the 
Oldenburghers spoke against it; they wanted to divide the 
land purchased into as many portions as there were persons 
who had contributed to its purchase, so that each might 
manage his own share on his own account ; but this did not 
suit the others, who considered the working in common so 
much more beneficial and more conducive to their object. 

The committee had gained an important advantage in 
having joined them in the ’tween decks ; it appeared more 
natural to them ; besides, the little shanties, which lay scat- 
tered all about the banks, also spoke to their hearts. Thus, 
they thought to themselves, must their new homes be, though 
of course only for the first few years. 

The fields adjoining looked so fruitful, the apple and peach 
orchards round about the dwellings looked so inviting, that 
they felt half inclined to put an end to the question by a 
hasty resolution ; and when, to crown all, Pastor Hehrmann, 
Mr. Herbold, and Becher came among them, and exhorted 
them to be of good cheer, and when Mr. Becher handed over 
100 dollars, and the other two 200 dollars each, before their 
eyes, to Siebert, senior, they could not think of considering 
the matter further ; even the Oldenburghers felt touched ; and 
before two o’clock of the afternoon, after a narrow inspection, 
there was found collected, from all members able to pay, 
1932 dollars into the common purse; certainly a respectable 
fund to found a modest home in the woods with. The pas- 
sage money of the penniless was paid out of this at once, 
and they undertook to repay the expenditure so soon as their 
funds would permit. 

Having got over this difficulty, the “ settlers” employed 
themselves in examining surrounding objects a little more 
narrowly than hitherto they had been able to do, on account 
of the constant bustle. The steamer itself first claimed 
their whole attention ; it appeared quite different from the 
Eastern boats in which they had travelled before. The 
engine stood upon deck, and two regular stories were erected, 
and upon the latter, whilst the helmsman’s place, instead of 


100 


THE PILGRIMAGE TO THE SETTLEMENT. 


being aft, was forward, in a small glass house between the 
two great chimneys. The cargo was mostly below in the 
hold, and the first story, arranged for cabin passengers only, 
was not to be approached by deck passengers ; but Siebert, 
senior, and Pastor Hehrmann had an opportunity of seeing 
the whole when they paid the total amount of freight and 
passage money which they had collected from the individual 
members. Pastor Hehrmann, besides, might have remained 
there on account of his family, but he wished, just at that 
time, to avoid every thing which might lead to envy or dis- 
cussion. The cabin was beautifully fitted up, the long and 
large saloon was closely hung with pictures, and between 
these, large richly-fringed crimson curtains concealed the 
sleeping berths for gentlemen, whilst an apartment in the 
after-part of the boat was separated by a glass door from the 
rest, and distinguished as the ladies’ cabin, to which was 
added, besides, a small black shield, with an inscription in 
gold letters thereon, announcing, 1 no admittance.’ 

The mode of steering the boat struck them particularly, 
for, as the steersman stood in front, two wire ropes issued 
from the little house in which the wheel was turned, right 
through the boat, aft to the rudder. The two long boilers 
were placed forward of the engine, and were there fired by 
the stokers. 

As they stopped at several small towns, they only reached 
Cincinnati, the largest city of Ohio State, and, indeed, of 
the whole of Western America, on the next day. The 
Captain announced to them that he should remain there until 
the following morning, and, therefore, that they would have 
ample time to look about the town, only they must be aboard 
by seven the next morning. The people did not need to be 
told this twice ; they streamed ashore in shoals, and drew off 
in single groups through the broad and handsome streets of 
the town. But every where they met Germans ; they saw 
their countrymen in all parts ; and when they got over some 
canal bridges into the other part of the town, their mother 
tongue sounded out of every door, and out of every open 
window. 

Our party of four, whom he have so often already fol- 
lowed in their wanderings, again found themselves together, 
and determined to make a regular good use of the day, to 


THE PILGRIMAGE TO THE SETTLEMENT. 


101 


see whatever was worth seeing and within reach, without 
much expense. 

They strolled slowly along the quay, or steamboat land- 
ing, as it is there called, and were just passing one of the in- 
numerable little clothes-stores, when a young and dapper 
little fellow, with well-curled hair, and very shining boots, 
dived but of the depths of the recess, approached the four 
men, cast a scrutinizing glance at them, and then, without 
more ado, seized Schmidt round the waist, and dragged him 
towards the entrance, whilst he, at the same time, gabbled a 
lot of English stuff to him, of which Schmidt did not under- 
stand one word. 

“Let me go,” he cried, peevishly, at last; “or at all 
events, talk so that I may understand what you want.” 

The young man still hung back with his German, which 
he undoubtedly understood ; but as he saw that his English 
was of no use, he begged our four fellow-travellers in very 
good, though rather Jewish German, just to step in and look 
at his goods. 

“We don’t want any thing,” said Schmidt, who did not 
feel comfortable at being caught hold of in such a way by a 
stranger ; “ our clothes are all good.” 

“ All good !” repeated contemptuously the young Israelite 
— “ all good ? Then I should like to see what you call bad. 
And you go across the street in Cincinnati in that coat ? you 
present yourself before decent people with those trousers ? 
you wear such a hat upon your head ? If I only had a gar- 
den I would change a new suit for this old one ; I would, 
upon my honour, only to get such a scarecrow for birds as is 
not to be found elsewhere in the world — I give you my word 
of honour, I would.” 

“ Hark ye,” said Schmidt, who'was getting angry , ** what 

the . Well, I won’t use bad language — though I was 

going to say .” 

“ Don’t be angry, my good sir ; don’t be angry,” 
exclaimed the little fellow, “the clothes would be good 
enough if any other person wore them, but with such a hand- 
some figure as yours, it’s a thousand pities to have such a 
bundle of rags hanging round you. Here” — he interrupted 
Schmidt, who was getting angry again — “ I’ll sell you a 
whole suit for 

“ Much obliged,” said the latter, and made an effort to 


102 


THE PILGRIMAGE TO THE SETTLEMENT. 


free himself from the hands of the clothes-dealer ; “ I don’t 
want any thing.” But the thing was easier thought of than 
executed, for the little Israelite held fast, and overwhelmed 
poor Schmidt with such a heap of compliments, as to his ap- 
pearance, how wrong it was of him to habit his handsome 
limbs in that fashion, that at last the latter did not know what 
to do, and was already asking the price of a pair of trousers, 
merely to get rid of the importunate one, when the brewer, 
who for some time past had found the thing going beyond 
the bounds of patience, came to the rescue. With powerful 
grasp he seized the slender Jew, till the latter sung out 
lustily, and said to him — 

u Hands off! Hands off, I say ! Nobody is forced to buy 
bargains here ; if we want any clothes, the tailor will make 
them for us; that’s what he’s there for.” And seizing his 
astonished comrade by the arm, he dragged him by force 
out of the shop. 

“ The devil is in the tailors here in America,” said 
Schmidt, when he got outside. “ These fellows are worse 
than highwaymen, who at all events wait till it gets dark 
before they attack you, but that fellow begins at noon-day.” 

And you would have bought something, sure enough,” 
said the shoemaker, as they turned up the main street. 

“ What was I to do ? he would not let me go.” 

“ Look, here’s another clothes-shop, and another Jew 
inside,” said the tailor ; “ this makes the fifteenth out of 
thirty-three houses that we have passed ; they just do swarm 
her£” 

Strolling thus up the street, they came between the sixth 
and seventh cross streets, opposite to a German tavern, and 
finding a number of their fellow-countrymen there, they 
stopped. But these had been some time in America, and as 
soon as they heard that the four men were new-comers, they 
set up such a lamentation about bad times, and want of 
money, that the settlers felt quite hot and uncomfortable. 

It is true, that at first they would not give in to these 
complaints, for what Dr. Normann had told them about the 
country sounded quite different, but at last, staggered by the 
testimony of so many bystanders, doubts began to arise in 
their minds, and the shoemaker said, — rather faint-heartedly, 
however — 


THE PILGRIMAGE TO THE SETTLEMENT. 


103 


“If ope can earn a dollar a day at work, I should think 
that one might live upon it.” 

“ Yes, if one could get it,” replied an old Hanoverian 
peasant, who, rather ragged, and with pale cheeks, was sit- 
ting on a bench before the house, nodding hard with his head 
at the same time. “ But they scarcely pay one twenty-five 
dollars a month during the harvest, and after that, poor devils 
may get on again as best they can. They offered me and 
my two sons six dollars a month ; the two boys were obliged 
to accept it, but I was taken ill, and am eating up nearly all 
they earn.” 

“ Are they making no railroads, no canals, hereabouts ? 
There’s always plenty of money when they are going on.” 

“ Half-a-dollar a day, and on wet days they don’t work. 
Payments are made monthly in paper money, and if one 
afterwards loses the fourth part only, one must think one’s 
self lucky.” 

“ But handicraftsmen are well paid here, are they not?” 
asked the tailor. 

“ Paid !” exclaimed another, laughing ironically, out of 
the open door. “ I’m a tailor, and I’ve worked for two 
months past for my board.” 

“ But, my good people,” said the little fellow, dolefully, 
“ why it must be dreadful here in America, then. What is 
one to do ?” 

“ It’s not so bad as the people make out,” interposed a 
farmer, who now joined them, and whose clean clothes and 
white fine linen bespoke a certain easiness of circumstances. 

“ It’s not so bad,” he repeated, “ only you must not suppose 
that roast pigeons fly about, crying, ‘ come eat me!’ First 
learn the ways and customs, first learn the language of the 
country, and you’ll work yourself into the whole system of 
the people with whom you have to mix. Only don’t stop in 
the towns ; out in the country, become countrymen, breed ( 
cattle ; if you have to work for small wages at first, what 
matter ; every man must pay his apprenticeship-fee, and 
dont’t suppose that you can escape doing that here. If for a 
year, or even two, things go ill with you, don’t abuse the 
country and the people directly ; no one drops from the sky 
a master ready-made, and good work must bide good time.” 

“ Well, that sounds reasonable,” said the brewer ; 
“ there’s no great lamentation about the matter, nor does he 


104 


THE PILGRIMAGE TO THE SETTLEMENT. 


overpraise the thing ; so there’s some hope left, that, after 
awhile, we may earn something on our land.” 

“ Bought already ?” said the farmer. 

“ Yes ; a whole company.” 

“ Good land ?” 

“ It’s said to be very good ; we haven’t seen it yet.” 

“ And bought already ; well, that is old-countryman like ; 
the Americans don’t do things that way ; they see the land 
first, and then they don’t always buy it exactly ; they go on 
Congress land, which they have to pay for in a couple of 
years, and with their ready money buy cattle ; that doubles 
its value in three years, and is as good as thirty-three or forty 
per cent. Where is your land, then ?” 

“ In Tennessee, on a small river which they call Big 
Hatchee, or something like that; they’ve got such break-jaw 
names here.” 

“ Big Hatchee V* said the farmer — “ that is a creek, a 
brook merely ; but the land there is said to be good. ’Tis 
unhealthy, it is true.” 

“ The deuce it is !” exclaimed the shoemaker, startled. 
“ Dr. Normann told us it lay in the healthiest part of the 
State.” 

“ Well, then, it must be a long way up the creek.” 

“ I don’t know what you mean by crick,” grunted the 
brewer ; “ the place is said to be fifteen miles from the Mis- 
sissippi, and there are some houses upon it.” 

“ Very likely,” said the farmer; “ I was never up the 
country there. And when are you going ?” 

“ Now, directly.” 

“Now? In August? Well, then, I wish you the joy 
of the fever,” said the farmer, laughing, drank the glass of 
cider which he had called for, and went off up the street. 

The brewer meanwile ordered some beer, growled some- 
thing about nonsensical stuff, fever, fiddlestick, old women’s 
tales, and so on, and then wandered off with his comrades 
higher up into the town. 

“ Well,” said the shoemaker, at last, stopping near a 
shoemaker’s workshop — “if that isn’t curious; I begin to 
think that all the shoemakers in Cincinnati are confectioners. 
Only look now at the gingerbread and sugar-candy in that 
window there, a whole lot of it ; the few pairs of shoes only 
seem to be hung beside by way of ornament.” 


THE PILGRIMAGE TO THE SETTLEMENT. 


105 


“ A pretty sort of ornament, indeed,” grinned the tailor. 
“ The shoemaker is right, though ; honeycakes and leather 
must agree well together here ; but perhaps it isn’t a shoe- 
maker’s.” 

“ Not a shoemaker’s !” bawled the other, peevishly. “ I 
should think I ought to know a shoemaker when I see one. 
Don’t you see him hammering away, yonder, between the 
honeycake and the pink child’s shoe.” 

“ Yes, sure enough,” said the little man; “it must be 
the custom here, then ; opposite yonder is another, and he 
has got a whole box of ready-made * shoes standing before 
his door.” 

“ Halloo ! he must have been a hard-working fellow,” ex- 
claimed the shoemaker, in astonishment, on perceiving the 
number of shoes set up in a large box ; “ and upon my word 
all made with little wooden pegs, too — they don’t appear to 
sew here at all.” 

“ Where shall we go to this evening ?” asked the brewer. 
“ I wish there was something to be seen here.” 

“ Another striped pig, perhaps ?” suggested Schmidt. 

“ Nonsense,” growled the other. “ But, I say, the Mu- 
seum yonder, in that wide street where the red lantern is 
hanging, is said to be well worth seeing. What say you ? 
shall we go in ? It only costs a quarter dollar.” 

“ That would be just one half of all that I am worth,” 
said the tailor. 

“ Well, I’ll pay for you, tailor, if Schmidt will pay for 
the shoemaker.” 

“ Agreed,” replied Schmidt. “ I’m willing to stand Sam ; 
only I should like to be shaved 4irst, for my beard feels very 
prickly — but I have not seen a sign of a basinf any where, 
although I’ve been constantly looking for one.” 

“ There are some Germans ; perhaps they can tell us 
where a barber is to be found.” 

“ Walk down here till you come to the first red-and-white 
painted pole, that’s a barber’s shop.” 

*It is not customary for shoemakers in Germany to keep a large 
stock of shoes ; those in the text, of course, were not all made by the 
seller, but probably in New England, where there are whole towns where 
nothing else is done. The wooden pegs would surprise an English shoe- 
maker as much as they did the German. — T r. 

t A brass basin is the German barber’s sign. — T r. 

6 


106 


THE PILGRIMAGE TO THE SETTLEMENT. 


“ What ! a little pole with a gilt knob at the top ?” asked 
Schmidt. 

“Yes, there are five or six of them in this street.” 

“Well, that is a curious sign for a barber,” said the 
shoemaker ; “ I’ve been puzzling my brains all day to find 
out what those poles could mean.” 

They soon arrived at one of these shops, whence the 
cheerful notes of a fiddle issued towards them. Schmidt 
went in, while the rest employed themselves outside in no- 
ticing the passers-by, and in looking into the ditferent shop 
windows ; but they had not waited long, before Schmidt, 
with his face all over lather up to his eyes, came running out 
again, clapped his hat on his head, and fled. 

The three burst into a roar of laughter, and other people 
also stopped to see what was the matter. 

But Schmidt, who perhaps was a little ashamed, quickly 
wiped the soap off with his handkerchief, and turned aside 
into a side street, whither his comrades followed him. 

“ What, in the name of wonder, has happened to you ?” 
asked the brewer. 

“ Nothing,” said Schmidt ; “ I was a jackass ; but I got 
such a fright when I saw that tall black fellow with the 
razor.” 

“ The black fellow ?” asked the tailor. 

“Yes,” said Schmidt. “When I went in, I sat myself 
down with my face to the door, and a little white boy lathered 
me, while at the back of the shop, behind a sort of curtain, 
somebody was performing beautifully on a fiddle ; it went so 
fast, that one could not distinguish the different notes. When 
my face had been lathered*, the playing suddenly stopped, 
and before I was aware of it, one of those negro fellows that 
run about t l streets here by dozens — a big, dangerous- 
lookin T iow, with great goggle eyes, and a shining razor 
in .3 nand — approached me. I suppose that he was going 
.o shave me, but I was so startled that up I jumped, tore the 
napkin off my neck, caught up my hat, and was out of the 
house like lightning ; they must have had a good laugh at 
me.” 

“ Didn’t they just laugh !” said the shoemaker ; “ the 
black stepped into the doorway, and grinned till it looked as 
though his two rows of teeth stretched from ear to ear. But 


THE PILGRIMAGE TO THE SETTLEMENT. 


107 


it was stupid of you, Schmidt ; he wouldn’t have cut your 
head off.” 

“ Oh, I know that well enough, only I was so taken 
aback at the first moment ; the fellow looked so grim. What 
am I to do now ?” 

“ Why, go into ‘some other barber’s shop, for you must 
not show yourself in that one again on any account ; it’s as 
well that we leave here to-morrow morning. There’s one 
down yonder.” 

Schmidt followed this advice, and went through the ope- 
ration this time, but declared positively, that he had again 
fallen into the hands of a black. 

When this matter had been disposed of, they wandered 
slowly down Main-street again, and got entrance tickets for 
the Museum. 

There we must leave them, and follow another section of 
the travelling companions — viz., the two Sieberts, Pastor 
Hehrmann, Becher, and Herbold, who had likewise walked 
up into the town, and had sought out a chemist and druggist 
named Strauss, to whom they were recommended by Dr. 
Normann. He received them in a very friendly manner, 
and in the afternoon took a walk with them. Mr. Strauss 
had not been long in America himself, but had lived nearly 
the whole time in Cincinnati, and appeared to have made 
himself pretty well acquainted with the state of affairs there ; 
he did not praise the place much, and showed a disposition 
to remove westward. Siebert immediately tried to gain him 
over for their colony, but was unable to induce him to pro- 
mise any thing certain, although the idea of quitting Cincin- 
nati did not seem to be a difficulty. He inquired with much 
interest into the plans and prospects of his countrymen, but 
shook his head several times very doubtfully, when the rela- 
tors got into what he called their “castles in the air.” He 
had known Dr. Normann for some years, and inquired with 
much interest after all that related to him. 

“ To be candid with you,” he said, at last, “ I don’t alto- 
gether trust that gentleman.” 

“How so?” exclaimed Mr. Siebert, in some alarm. 

“ Well, he has told me such stories about inventions 
which he pretends to have made, some of which are really 
ridiculous ; brags so much of Republican- American senti- 
ments, and altogether plays the part of such an extraordina- 


108 


THE PILGRIMAGE TO THE SETTLEMENT. 


rily clever and wonderfully rich man, that I have become 
somewhat distrustful of him, the more particularly, because, 
as far as regards the latter assumption, I have strong proofs 
to the contrary ; but I may be mistaken ; he may be a very 
honourable man, and a clever one he certainly is.” 

Thus conversing about one thing and the other, they had 
wandered through most of the streets of the town, and had 
returned to Main-street again, when Strauss suddenly stopped 
before a low, wide building, with a wooden staircase, and 
said — 

“'By the bye, we were talking, this morning, about the 
politics of the Germans here ; would you like to attend a 
German political meeting this evening ?” 

“ Willingly,” they all said ; “ where is it held ?” 

“Just here, where we are standing, in the house of a 
fellow-countryman, of course, who, besides, keeps very good 
beer. Cincinnati is, moreover, the Munich* of North Ame- 
rica. But here is the place ; and, as I hear, the speechify- 
ing has commenced ” 

They walked in, and found a pretty numerous assem- 
blage of Germans, who were mostly sitting round a table, 
talking together in a very animated manner, and only ceasing 
when one of them, by rattling a tin can, intimated a wish to 
address the assembly. 

The election of President was at hand, and the Democrats 
were trying their utmost to get the Democrat Polk elected 
President ; whilst the Whigs were noways behindhand in 
their exertions in opposition, and to carry their candidate to 
the Capitol at Washington. But, instead of being satisfied 
with praising their own respective candidates, and placing 
them in the most favourable light, both parties were chiefly 
engaged in blackening the character of the man put forward 
by the opposite party, in such a dreadful manner, that if what 
they said were true, no respectable dog could have accepted 
a piece of bread at his hands. 

In such a meeting they now found themselves, and the 
settlers had already listened with great attention to the ad- 
dresses of various orators, whose words were frequently in- 
terrupted by shouts of approbation, and rewarded by thunders 
of applause. 

* Munich is celebrated throughout Germany for the goodness of its 
beer. — T r. 


THE PILGRIMAGE TO THE SETTLEMENT. 


109 


“ It must be admitted,” said Becher, when, after awhile, 
they had walked up and down outside the house to cool them- 
selves — “ it must be admitted that they have a peculiar way 
of speaking here — such violent abuse of one man, whose only 
offence appears to be, that their opponents wish to make him 
President ; their style would not suit my taste ; however, 
different countries, different manners ; probably the Whigs 
are not much better.” 

“ Worse still, if possible, worse still,” said Strauss, laugh- 
ing. “ But could you understand all that the people inside 
there were saying ?” 

“Well,” replied Pastor Hehrmann, “I have listened 
pretty attentively, but I cannot say that I comprehended 
every thing ; some of their sentences seemed very bom- 
bastic.” 

“ Yes,” Becher interrupted him ; “ now that you mention 
it, I think I could also affirm that those portions of the 
speeches which the people applauded most loudly, contained 
nothing further than very vague ideas ; the good folks seem 
easily satisfied.” 

“ Will you believe me,” smiled Strauss, “ that I will go 
in and talk nonsense, for five minutes — nonsense, pure bare- 
faced nonsense — and that at the conclusion it shall be hailed 
with loud plaudits ?” 

“ Well, I don’t think them quite so bad as that comes to, 
either,” said Pastor Hehrmann, with a deprecating shake of 
the head ; “ they are actuated with the best intentions — viz., 
that of having the affairs of the republic, in which they live, 
managed as well as possible ; and if they are not exactly 
learned men, still they probably can distinguish sense from 
nonsense.” 

“ Well,” said Strauss, “ we can make the experiment. 
Come in with me ; only keep serious ; that’s all 1 ask of 
you.” 

The meeting was powerfully excited by a speech which 
had just been made. Here and there violent blows of fists 
upon the table testified what strength their owners were 
capable of using should they be called upon to combat for 
the right cause, and all of them were talking and hallooing 
together. 

Strauss had to rattle the tin can several times ; at last the 


110 


THE PILGRIMAGE TO THE SETTLEMENT. 


excitement abated a little, and the new orator stood upon a 
chair. 

“ Gentlemen,” — he now began, after casting a searching 
glance round the circle, and making some very long pauses, 
particularly in the commencement, as though he were over- 
come by his feelings, until at last, by degrees, he got into 
full swing, as Mr. Becher afterwards observed, and pursued 
the thread of his discourse with more animated words and 
gesticulations, — “ It is with satisfaction — that I do myself the 
honour — of standing up in this place — which it would be im- 
possible to express. I see that you are determined to remain 
true to your former well-tried and honourable opinions. I 
see the fire of courage and patriotism beaming in your eyes. 
I see that you will not bow down again under that yoke 
which you have but recently shaken off, together with the old 
country, your former home.” (No, no, no ! from several 
parts of the room.) — “ Gentlemen, it is not only necessary 
that we should show firm resolution in the exertions which 
we have attained by the perseverance of our dear fellow- 
countrymen, and with iron determination refuse to join a 
party which tries to frighten us by trickery and bragging ; 
no, we must also, conscious of our worth, in the hope of real 
and irresistible conviction, endeavour to carry out that feel- 
ing which inflames us with holy ardour, that feeling for jus- 
tice and freedom which is a birthright of Germans !” 
(Bravo ! bravo ! from all sides.) — “ Gentlemen,” Strauss, 
becoming warmer, now proceeded — “ you have an internal 
conviction of the words of truth. Although British gold and 
selfish opinions may oppress a portion of this holy republic, 
although tyranny and oppression may threaten with chains 
and sharpened swords, have you ever been dismayed ? Did 
you not return gloriously and triumphantly from the former 
battle ?” (Hurrah for Strauss ! hurrah !) — “ Yes, my dear 
fellow-countrymen, you understand my feelings, but you 
also know, as I do, that a party cannot triumph in whose 
hearts a participation in deceit and seductive appearances 
has taken root, whose independence and convictions are at- 
tacked by venal brokers and agents, in which the blind fa- 
naticism of thousands aimed at a height which, by chimerical 
hopes and impressions, composed of promises and decep- 
tions, sought in vain to attain that goal which comes to meet 
and bless an honest heart.” (Hurrah, hurrah, hurrah for 


THE PILGRIMAGE TO THE SETTLEMENT. 


Ill 


Strauss! the crowd exclaimed, and the rejoicing and clat- 
tering of drinking vessels for some moments drowned every 
other word.) “ No, no, and no, again I say,” continued 
Strauss, as soon as the noise had abated a little. “ When 
the heart does not with loud throbs throw itself into the arms 
of liberty, — when strength does not stretch out its powerful 
hands into one great alliance — where talent and knowledge 
do not work together with firm and inflexible unanimity, 
where during generations, evil has not been held in contempt 
and good honoured — of what avail are. the fine-drawn nets of 
the hypocrites, who appear to spread their yarns with cunning 
fingers ? Let them spread them ; let them contrive — the 
tricksters ! let the nets become closer and closer daily, which 
are to conceal their guilt with an easily rent and transparent 
covering. Let them rejoice in their vileness — let them, with 
gnashing teeth, defile the throne of truth, which is firmly 
wound round the hearts of our party with twenty-handed 
arms ! Let them go on patiently. But as for us, I point with 
luminous finger to the oriflame of youthful Immortality — 
for us, I say, away, away with cunning and false shame ! 
away with fraud, away with false appearances ! We, my 
brothers, are German democrats, and let our motto be, ‘ Ger- 
man perseverance and German truth !’ ” 

“ Hurrah !” screamed the crowd once more, in ear-pierc- 
ing chorus, as Strauss descended from the chair, and several 
approached, and shook hands with him in a friendly manner. 

Pastor Hehrmann, however, had quietly gone out as soon 
as the speech was concluded ; the rest now followed him ; 
and Strauss, as soon as he joined them, smilingly asked them 
whether he had been as good as his word. 

“ Deuce take it !” exclaimed Becher, “ but that was a 
capital speech ; and how pleased they were with it !” 

“ That was nothing,” whispered Strauss ; “ there were 
* too many of the ‘ honourables’ there, and one must not lay it 
on too thick with them. But the other day I was in my ele- 
ment ; they called upon me for a speech, and I talked such 
stuff to them that at last I began to be ashamed myself. At 
the conclusion I compared our president to a comet, and said, 
that ‘ as the latter the more it stretches backward the broader 
it becomes, so shall we in our progress grow and increase in 
strength, till, like a brilliant comet in the night sky of the 
opposite party, we shall break our way shining and flaming 


] 12 


THE PILGRIMAGE TO THE SETTLEMENT. 


to the zenith of the firmament. ’ You should have heard the 
applause ; and the lacemaker from down in Front-street, who 
has made a couple of thousand dollars or so, and therefore 
considers himself a wonderfully clever fellow — but who, I 
may observe in passing, is a dreadful Whig and a blockhead, 
and had only come to our meeting to hear what was going 
foreward, — went away, saying, ‘ It’s all very well, any body 
can deal in abuse.’ ” 

“ But I don’t consider it right to mystify the people in 
such a way as to their feelings ; why not speak to them in 
clear distinct words ? why not endeavour to strengthen them 
in pure unadulterated truth ?” 

“ Mr. Hehrmann,” said Strauss, becoming more serious, 
“ I could answer that question by another, but we will con- 
fine ourselves to what is political. You dare not do it ; no 
one would listen to you at last, and the people would say, 
‘ He will only tell us what we know well enough already,’ 
whether they know it or not. No, to be a Mentor of the 
people, I, for one, shall not aspire ; but if they will be made 
fools of it’s their own fault. If they would only learn to think 
before they would abuse , all that would not happen ; but you 
may convince yourself, from every individual, with a few 
exceptions, that what I say is correct. Thousands of my 
worthy fellow-countrymen, some of whom even pass for poli- 
tical luminaries, know and understand as little of American 
politics as most German reviewers know of the books which 
they review. They just cast a glance into them, and criti- 
cise away. 

“ The Germans here follow the multitude, and many of our 
German Tom Noddys, who with puffed-up cheeks look down 
upon their poorer countrymen, although they themselves, but 
a few months before, scarcely had salt to their bread, be- 
come Whigs ; because they now come in contact with rich 
Americans who are Whigs, and who see through these addle- 
heads, flatter them, and lead them by the nose so long as 
they want to make use of them. You cannot conceive what 
a contemptible animal is one of these German parvenus who 
has become rich. But it is getting late, and we had better 
go to bed ; farewell, therefore, until to-morrow ; I’ll come 
round to the boat, before it starts.” 

The settlers followe l the advice of the apothecary, and, 
wearied with the constant wandering about, retired to rest. 


THE PILGRIMAGE TO THE SETTLEMENT. 


113 


Pastor Hehrmann, however, continued silently to walk up 
and down the deserted' deck in deep musing, till weariness 
overcame him also, and he laid himself down, wrapped in 
his cloak, beside the little cabin of the pilot, there in the 
open air to await the rising sun. 

The dawn was yet contending with the increasing light of 
the young day, and the crew, who had been busy at work 
cleaning the various decks, had just concluded their labours, 
when the door of one of the sleeping apartments in the ladies’ 
cabin opened, and the pastor’s elder daughter stepped out into 
the fresh morning air, to greet the first rays of the awakening 
day. The neighbourhood, still and pleasant, lay before her; 
the river murmured and splashed lightly against the sides of 
the boat ; fishes leaped out of the water ; single boats, with 
snow-white sails glided quickly across the stream, and all 
nature rested, overspread with such a lovely charm, that the 
dear and good girl gently folded her hands, and with her 
clear eyes turned towards the equally pure sky, prayed in- 
wardly. 

“ Good morning, Bertha !” whispered a voice, softly ; and 
the maiden started back, exclaiming “ Oh !” with a glad 
voice — but she receded still farther, pale and frightened, when 
she saw the sharp eyes of Dr. Normann fixed upon her 
with a keen though friendly expression. He now climbed 
quickly over the paddle-box down to the gallery of the ladies’ 
cabin, and approached the young girl, who timidly drew back, 
exclaiming, reproachfully — “Doctor, you must have mis- 
taken the place.” 

“ No, my dear Bertha,” said the doctor, seizing her hand, 
which she, half mechanically, let him do. “ No, I do not 
mistake, but the boat will leave in a few hours, and I myself 
cannot leave Cincinnati, on account of business, until the 
expiration of some weeks. It is therefore not possible for 
me to part from you thus, without having first declared my- 
self.” 

Bertha would have withdrawn her hand, but he would 
not let her, but continued, more passionately : 

“ Bertha, there is no time now to choose convenient times 
and places; I am on the point of losing you. You must, 
during the whole time you have known me, have remarked 
with what devotion I love you.” 

“ Sir !” said Bertha, alarmed. 

6 * 


114 


THE PILGRIMAGE TO THE SETTLEMENT. 


“ Do not take away this hand from me,” the doctor con- 
tinued, with ardent looks ; “ do not reject the heart of one who 
is capable, nay, the whole wish of whose soul is to make 
you happy ; do not turn your dear face away ; say at least 
that you are not angry with me.” 

“ Leave me, sir, I beg of you,” said the girl, who was 
now really alarmed ; “ I can give you no hopes to encourage 
feelings which I cannot reciprocate.” 

“ I have startled you, Bertha, have I not ?” asked the 
doctor; “ you are angry with me on that account.” 

“ I am not angry with you ; no, do not misunderstand me ; 
you have been so disinterestedly obliging to my parents, and 
to the whole company, that I cannot help giving you my 
whole esteem.” 

“ Oh ! why that cold word — esteem ?” said Normann. 

“ Do not demand more ; I cannot, I dare not, even feel 
more, I ” 

“ You love another ; you love yonder young man, who-: — ” 

“ Sir,” said the otherwise so retiring girl, drawing herself 
up proudly, “ I believe that I am not bound to give any ac- 
count of my feelings to you.” With these words, she en- 
deavoured to go back on the gallery, in order to return into 
the cabin, whither the doctor dared not have followed her, 
but he barred her passage, and said, in a low tone but 
gravely : “ Bertha, I love you — love you with a passion that 
startles even myself. Bertha you must be mine ; do not rob 
me of every hope ; say, at least, that you may, one day.” 

“ Sir, you will oblige me to call for assistance if you do 
not let me go. You cannot hope to force me to love you.? 
Farewell ; if we ever meet again, may this conversation be 
forgotten by both of us. I bear no ill-will towards you.” 

With these words, she stepped past the doctor, who no 
longer sought to detain her, but looking darkly after her, and 
then murmuring something between his teeth, quickly re- 
gained the upper deck ; without looking round, he jumped off 
the other side of the paddle-box in a bound or two on to the 
lower deck of the boat, strode over the plank, and disappear- 
ed in a few minutes more among the buildings of the town. 

The Captain was as good as his word, as to their early 
departure ; it was not yet seven o’clock when his bell sound- 
ed for the first time, and soon after the mooring ropes were 
got in. Strauss, who wished to take leave of his new friends, 


THE PILGRIMAGE TO THE SETTLEMENT. 


115 


could scarcely press their hands, before the engine began to 
work, and in a very short time more, the boat panted, his- 
sing and foaming, down the stream towards the father of wa- 
ters — the Mississippi. 

At breakfast, all the ’tween deck passengers assembled 
on the lower deck, but they were not a little astonished on 
finding that Dr. Normann had disappeared so mysteriously 
without taking leave. Pastor Hehrmann, it is true, might 
have given them some explanation, for he had been an unin- 
tentional spectator from the upper, or so-called hurricane deck, 
of the whole interview between his daughter and the doctor ; 
but the latter, in hurrying off, had not observed Hehrmann, 
and as his daughter said nothing on the subject, the pastor 
determined not to allude in any way to what had taken place. 

“ What can have become of the doctor !” exclaimed 
Becher, when he had been sought for every where, and the 
conviction forced itself upon them that he was not on board. 
“ This morning I saw him running hastily into the town. I 
called after him too, but he either did not, or would not hear 
me.” 

“ Probably,” suggested the elder Siebert, “ he went to 
look after something or other, and did not think that the boat 
would start so soon. Is his luggage still on board ?” 

“ If I am not much mistaken, he carried that under his 
arm,” replied Becher, “ but 1 will not positively affirm it.” 

M. Von Schwanthal now gave a different turn to the con- 
versation as well as to the thoughts of the settlers, by de- 
scribing the Museum — where, on the preceding evening, he 
had fallen in with our four-leaved shamrock, Schmidt, the 
shoemaker, the tailor, and the brewer, — in such a droll man- 
ner, that all assembled round him. 

“ They call it a Museum of Natural History,” he said, 
laughing ; “ a couple of cupboards full of stuffed birds, and 
hideous drawn out beasts, are the only things that belong to 
natural history in the place ; but there are plenty of other 
things ; for example, mammoth’s bones, Indian weapons and 
dresses ; a cuirass, picked up after the battle of Waterloo, 
on which, if I mistake not, the hero’s blood yet sticks ; a 
French postillion’s boot — the latter was shown as something 
particularly curious; a piece of a steam-boiler that had 
burst and was blown from the steamer, I don’t know how 
many hundred yards, upon the shore ; snakes in spirits of 


116 


THE PILGRIMAGE TO THE SETTLEMENT. 


wine ; and, above all things, a horrible room-full of relics of 
criminals ; ropes and nightcaps of people who have been 
hanged ; awfully distorted heads of malefactors in spirits ; 
hands and feet cut off ; knives and axes, with which deeds of 
murder have been done, and on which the blood may yet be 
seen. Pish ! a shudder runs through me at the very thought 
of it.” 

“ And then the large dolls,” said the tailor. 

“ Yes, splendid wax-figures, representing nothing but 
tales of murder and robbery, and then such attitudes ! One 
thing amused me very much ; under a glass-case there stood 
a kind of machine, put together of iron and brass wheels : it 
is true it was immovable, but below was a label pasted on 
it, whereon was written, ‘ Perpetuum mobile.’ ” 

“ And the last was pretty, too,” said the shoemaker, who 
could not conceive why the committee laughed at this ; 
“ there came in one of these negroes, and threw a whole lot 
of plates in the air, and danced about underneath them with- 
out letting one fall to the ground.” 

“ But how about * Hell V ” smiled Von Schwanthal, 
glancing sideways at the brewer ; the other three burst out 
into a hearty laugh. 

“ Well,” said the brewer, rather vexed, “ I should like 
to know who would not have been startled. They’ve got a 
concern there which they call Hell, a whole room-full of 
devils, poor souls, snakes, and I don’t know all what. On 
one side there was a railing, so I leant quietly against it, and 
was looking at a tall skeleton that stood close beside me and 
had frightful claws ; but while I was thinking of nothing of 
the kind, it turned suddenly round and sprang right at me — 
it looked horrid.” 

“ The brewer did not make a bad jump either,” Von 
Schwanthal continued, taking up the narrative ; “ but unfor- 
tunately he alighted upon the corns of an old lady, who 
began to abuse him soundly.” 

“ She must have been a German,” said the brewer ; “ for 
though she sputtered out nothing but English gibberish, yet 
the first word she said was ‘ Rindvieh,’ (brute or ox, lout,) I 
understood that.” 

“ That wouldn’t be difficult for you,” tittered the tailor. 

Siebert, senior, had meanwhile looked round once more 
after Dr. Normann, but without being able to see or hear any 


THE PILGRIMAGE TO THE SETTLEMENT. 


117 


thing of him, and the emigrants had to comfort themselves 
with the fact, that he had promised to visit them very shortly 
in their new settlement. For the moment, also, their senses 
were too much occupied with the present, in seeing all that 
was new, which glided past them, sometimes on the river, 
sometimes on the shore, and as the weather was warm and 
beautiful, they spent the greater part of the day, as of the 
night, on deck. 

Bertha, after the doctor left the boat, had given vent to 
her distressed feelings, in her lonely berth, by a healing flood 
of tears ; but determined on concealing the conversation which 
had taken place from her parents, in order not to trouble 
them unnecessarily, and at breakfast she appeared collected 
and almost cheerful. 

The boat pursued its course with rushing speed down 
stream, and already, on the second evening, reached the 
mouth of the Ohio, the little town of Cairo, at the south-west 
angle of Illinois State. But here the passengers had the 
mortification to discover that they were to be removed into 
another boat — “ the Orinoco,” upon one of the largest of the 
Mississippi steamers, as the smaller, “ Dayton,” hoped to 
do more business on the Ohio, which just then could not be 
conveniently navigated by the larger vessels, by reason of 
the want of water. But they did not experience much in- 
convenience in the matter, for the little vessel laid herself 
close alongside of the larger one, and in less than three 
hours all was ended, and their position was at the same 
time considerably improved, as well as regards room as 
convenience. 

Now, therefore, they found themselves, for the first time 
on the mighty Mississippi River ; Pastor Hehrmann gazed 
gloomily out upon the yellow surface of its waters, which 
with headlong rapidity rolled themselves down in enormous 
breadth between its flat banks. 

“ And I had pictured to myself such a lovely idea of 
this mighty Mississippi !” he murmured to himself ; “ and 
now it looks so desert and wild, so malicious and spiteful ; 
many a thing loses it charm when it is looked at near at 
hand.” 

The remaining settlers seemed less unpleasantly surprised 
by the grand surface of water which spread itself out before 
them. 


118 


THE PILGRIMAGE TO THE SETTLEMENT. 


“ That’s something like a river !” said the tailor ; “ one 
almost feels as though one were going to sea again ; I really 
should not know which way to steer to get down it.” 

“ It’s a good job the pilot isn’t quite so stupid,” said the 
shoemaker, and the little one probably concurred in this view, 
for he simply nodded his head. 

But the weather did not continue so favourable as it had 
been. From the other side of the river, from above the close 
tree-tops, dark, heavy masses of cloud rolled themselves on 
towards them, spread all over the sky, and made the neigh- 
bourhood look yet more dreary and more forbidding. Now 
and then single clouds discharged their loads of water, and 
the rain streamed down at those moments with such fearful 
force, that the people in the boat, which rushed through it, 
felt quite anxious and frightened. But while they were sit- 
ting in the dry and tolerably comfortable space of the lower 
deck, awaiting the clearing up of the weather, the by no 
means agreeable cry of “ wood aboard ! wood aboard !” was 
heard through the boat, and, well or ill, all had to turn out, 
for all had engaged, when they paid less passage-money than 
they otherwise would have done, to help to carry the wood 
for the firing of the boat. A certain Republican spirit had 
prompted them not to shrink from a kind of work which some 
other passengers who travelled with them did not shun. It 
is true that they had not taken into account that their clothes 
were not suitable, and that they possessed neither the prac- 
tice nor the endurance required to bear, without grumbling, 
a hardship which they now discovered was none of the 
lightest. 

The evening set in ; it became dark, and rained as though 
the skies were coming down ; and during several hours they 
had to clamber up the steep and slippery river-bank, about 
twenty or thirty feet in height, and get down again with three 
or four heavy pieces of cordwood on their shoulders, in doing 
whieh they not unfrequently slipped and fell, and sometimes 
hurt themselves considerably without receiving any comfort 
in return, except that, when after three hours’ work, they 
went on board again, tired and worn out, with torn and soiled 
clothes, they were laughed at into the bargain by the crew of 
the “ Orinoco.” In return for this, and for a repetition of 
the same work two or three times more, they saved a dollar 
per man on the whole voyage. 


THE PILGRIMAGE TO THE SETTLEMENT. 


119 


The next day was not much better; the weather re- 
mained dull and rainy, and the wood-carrying had to be done 
twice more ; but they were now hourly approaching nearer 
and nearer to the object of their journey, and the captain 
told Siebert, senior, who spoke English, that he should land 
them about one in the morning at the mouth of the Big 
Hatchee. 

“ Do you know the place ?” asked Siebert. 

“ No, I do not ; but the pilot thinks it is a little creek of 
that name, and lies between Randolph and the northern 
boundary of Tennessee.” 

“ What is the name of the town at the mouth of it, then ?” 

“ Town ! — there’s no town at the mouth-” 

“ No town ! Well, then, some little place ?” 

“Yes; a cord wood -chopper lives there with his family, 
if he has not moved away yet. Those people are always on 
the move.” 

“ Strange !” grumbled Siebert to himself ; but the idea 
did not seem to please him, that only a solitary wood-cutter 
should occupy the mouth of their river ; for he concluded, not 
unreasonably, that many settlers must have located them- 
selves there, had the watercourse been of any magnitude ; 
he said nothing about it, however. And now preparations 
commenced in earnest for getting ready all their cargo of 
valuables, in order not to be' detained too long with the un- 
loading when the boat should land. It was unpleasant, of* 
course, that it should rain and be dark when they reached 
the place of their destination, but that could not be helped ; 
all were glad to be so near the goal, and had not the least 
fear for the future. They were aware, no doubt, that they 
should have to make shift with the few buildings which they 
should find upon their farm, but still it was a beginning, and 
comforts might be obtained by and by. 

Night came on — the rain poured down in streams — all 
nature seemed in agitation ; but the mighty boat hissed and 
hurried through the roaring storm, dashing with its paddles 
the yellow waves the wilder, towards the steep and loose 
river banks, where they broke, so that here and there large 
lumps of earth were loosened and precipitated with a splash 
into the flood. 

“ But we can’t land in weather like this,” said Yon 


120 


THE PILGRIMAGE TO THE SETTLEMENT. 


Schwanthal to Siebert, senior ; “ the captain will have to 
lie-to until to-morrow morning.” 

“ That he won’t ;” said Siebert, shaking his head, “ we 
needn’t reckon upon that ; these captains of steamers are a 
rough, hardened set of fellows ; no, he would put us ashore 
if it rained pebble-stones.” 

“If there’s only a good tavern not far from the shore we 
may there await better weather.” 

“ Well, I hope there may be !” sighed Siebert, and went 
to his box, to cord it and get it ready. 

Buslling activity now reigned every where among the 
passengers, but not the best of humours ; the weather had 
put them out, and the greater part of them sat about, grum- 
bling, agitated by uncomfortable feelings, in the corners of 
the ’tween decks. 

Midnight was past, when the bell rang for landing, while 
the thunder outside accompanied its sound, which echoed 
far out into the darkness. Not long after a firebrand was 
swung on the left shore, and the vessel took a sweep in order 
to lie-to with her stern to the stream ; the captain at the 
same time stepped to the ’tween decks, and cried — 

“ Big Hatchee — who’s for the shore ?” 

The sailors and stokers followed, and seized every thing 
that came to hand, and put it ashore ; but not above, at the 
top of the bank, but close to the river’s edge, where about 
fifteen cords of wood were already piled up. These mean- 
while were carried aboard by another portion of the work- 
people, and the whole scene was a dreadfully confused and 
disordered one. Women complained, children cried, men 
swore ; the rain meanwhile actually flooded from the sky, 
and the women, as well the Hehrmanns as the other fami- 
lies, could only be got up the steep bank of the shore with 
considerable trouble, where they perceived, by the glare of 
a pine-torch, a solitary small and low house, the door of which 
was open, while in the chimney there burned a slightly 
glimmering fire. 

The owner of the house and of the cordwood accompanied 
them as far as the entrance, and made signs for them to enter. 
But Siebert, who had previously exchanged a few words 
with him, whispered, as the latter turned away, “ Don’t 
crowd too near the bed ; the wife of our host lies there ; 
she died about an hour since !” 


THE PILGRIMAGE TO THE SETTLEMENT. 


121 


There was something so awfully quiet in the words, that 
Pastor Hehrmann looked round terrified after the American ; 
but he went quietly down to the steamer to receive the price 
for his wood. There the captain, out of particular civility, 
had caused au old tarpaulin to be spread over the goods 
which had been tumbled ashore, and which covering he in- 
tended to fetch away on his upward journey : Siebert, how- 
ever, quickly bought it of him for five dollars, for he now saw 
how necessary it would be for their use, and then followed 
the rest into the shanty. All could not have found space in 
this, even had the dread of the corpse not driven the greater 
part of them into the most distant part of the room ; fortu- 
nately, however, there was also a so-called kitchen, or 
smoking-house, behind the dwelling, and here a great num- 
ber of the settlers were billeted, at least for the night. Oh, 
how anxiously all waited the morrow. 

It was a fearful night ; the storm roared round the house, 
so that the weak boarding which formed the roof clappered 
and tumbled, and here and there the rain poured through in 
streams. The mosquitoes appeared insatiable, and swarmed 
round the poor tortured ones in an almost unbearable man- 
ner. The little children, in particular, alarmed by the nov- 
elty of all that surrounded them, would not be quieted, and 
by their cries increased the strangeness, the unearthliness of 
their situation ; and before them all, still and motionless, 
careless of mosquitoes, or of any other disturbance, the young 
woodsman sat beside the bed of his dead wife, which was 
hung over with a thin mosquito curtain. 

Silently he stared into the now bright flaming fire in the 
chimney, and his left hand all the night through clasped the 
hand of the corpse. The elder Siebert, it is true, once tried 
to approach him and to offer consolation, but the unhappy 
man merely made a sign to him to leave him alone, and stared 
uninterruptedly into the fire on the hearth. He was beside 
his wife, and seemed not to remark the presence of the many 
strangers. 

Pastor Hehrmann, seated at the head of the bed where 
the corpse lay, had collected his family around him, and had 
spread his large, wide cloak over them, to defend them as 
well from the annoying insects as from the single drops of 
rain which penetrated. But, comforting all in their unpleas- 
ant position, he concluded a simple but touching prayer, 


122 


THE SETTLEMENT. 


which he spoke aloud, with the words, “ May the Almighty 
make our departure as glad and as happy as our arrival is 
inauspicious and melancholy.” 

A loud hearty £ Amen’ from every lip replied to this, and 
then deep silence reigned throughout the house of affliction. 


CHAPTER IV. 

THE SETTLEMENT. 

He who awaits the coming morning in a warm, soft bed, 
in a well-built house, cares little whether it rains and storms 
without, or whether the sun darts his first rays in a clear 
blue sky. Perhaps he wraps himself only the more com- 
fortably in his covering, and turns once more for a short 
morning nap, when the rain beats cold and loud against the 
window-panes, and the wind whistles madly in chimneys and 
key-holes, shakes down the soot in the rocking fire-places, 
turns the rusty old weathercocks, scraping and creaking, 
backwards and forwards, and howls up and down the streets 
in wild, unfettered play. 

But, on the other hand, how anxiously does the invalid 
on his sick bed, or the poor wanderer, who has had to pitch 
his roofless, unprotected encampment under the trees of the 
forest, amidst storm and tempest, look forward to the linger- 
ing, lingering dawn of morning ! how many times does he 
turn his eyes on near objects, and gaze searchingly round, 
to see if he cannot discover a somewhat lighter reflection, a 
more distinct perception of the surrounding place, which 
may announce the breaking morning, and promise him at 
least light, with which he may hope for some alleviation of 
his torment, or some amendment of his unbearable position ! 

How ardently, how eagerly, was this morning longed 
for by the settlers, who, scarcely conscious where they were, 
many of them just awakened from a deep sleep, had been 
turned out, in storm, and rain, and pitchy darkness, into the 
wild, rustling forest, with scarcely a roof for shelter, and who 
could not even reconnoitre the place where they were, which, 
but sparingly lighted by the embers on the hearth at first, 
was now shrouded in impenetrable darkness. 


THE SETTLEMENT. 


123 


Add to this, the consciousness of having a human corpse 
in the room, and of the presence of the still, motionless figure 
of the young man, who, so long as he sat by the bed-side of 
his wife, had betrayed no more sign of life than did the dead 
body by whose side he watched, and whose hand he probably 
was still, as before, holding in his own. 

At last, at last, the first faint glimmer of dawn broke 
through the cracks of the hut ; the gray firmament, so far as 
the narrow clearing of the wood allowed it to be seen, showed 
itself lighter and lighter, and the wet foliage rustled and shook 
more loudly and violently to the morning salute of passing 
gusts of wind. 

Wild, strange, unearthly sounds were heard, at the same 
time, from without, so that the women started with fright, and 
huddled closer together, in order, united, to meet with more 
heart the terrors, which appeared the more awful because 
they could neither assign to them form or shape. 

With the dawn, too, the mosquitoes became unbearable ; 
they attacked in swarms the unfortunate strangers, whose 
sweet blood appeared to be particularly palatable to them,* 
and no handkerchief wrapped round, no mantle, no veil, 
could any longer protect them from their innumerable and 
painful stings ; for they searched about, and did not rest, 
until, somewhere or other on the body they found an unpro- 
tected spot, into which they might bury their insatiable lit- 
tle trunks. 

It now became lighter and lighter*) - in the little space, and 
every moment they recognized more distinctly the details of 
their any thing but pleasant environs. 

So this was a log-house ! Wind and weather found free 
access on all sides, J and even the roof, to which they could 
look up unimpeded by any ceiling, allowed the rain, which 

* Mosquitoes always sting an old-countryman during the first year 
ensuing his arrival more than they ever do afterwards, and more than they 
do natives — Tr. 

t There is no dawn in the latitude of the Big Hatchee in August, or 
none worth mentioning. — T r. 

t This is not a picture of an average log-house, (which is wind and 
water tight, and warm,) but of a very temporary shanty ; it is not con- 
sistent with the occupant’s skill as a back-woodsman, or his industry, 
that he should have let his wife live a single week in such a hole — espe- 
cially when a few shingles, and some moss and clay, would have reme- 
died all. — T r. 


124 


THE SETTLEMENT. 


beat down in wild, stormy streams, to come through in large 
drops. As to household utensils, the dwelling scarcely con- 
tained any ; at least, none which they could distinguish in 
the dawning light. The bed, covered with the white mos- 
quito curtains, and supporting the corpse, beside which the 
young woodsman still sat, silent and motionless, and some 
rough seats, on which a portion of the settlers had placed them- 
selves, were the only furniture of the forest home. 

The settlers had, meanwhile, passed the long melancholy 
hours in very various and strange groups and positions. It 
must doubtless have been most difficult for the members of 
Hehrmann’s family to bear their hardships without a com- 
plaint, without a murmur ; for, accustomed from childhood to 
the pleasant conveniences of life, and hitherto withdrawn 
from the discomforts to which others had been exposed dur- 
ing the whole voyage, they had no idea, except from the first 
few nights in the steerage, of such a situation or such suf- 
ferings. Quietly and uncomplainingly the tender beings 
clung to the husband and the father, who folded them in his 
arms, and tried to protect them with his cloak from cold, and 
wet, and mosquitoes. 

The rest of the committee were equally ill lodged ; but the 
men, by a sort of instinct, had cowered down in the chimney- 
corner, packed as close together as possible, in order to leave 
no more of their persons exposed to the attacks of the little 
blood-thirsty enemies which in myriads surrounded them 
than they were able to defend. The brewer, the shoemaker, 
the tailor, and Schmidt, as well as a troop of Oldenburghers, 
and several other groups, composed of Brunswickers and 
Alsatians, did precisely the same, so that afterwards, when 
the unpleasant part of the business was past and forgotten, 
and the settlers remembered the comic side of that night 
only, Becher was wont to say that the whole company was 
divided into so many heaps of rats. 

Suddenly there was heard without, seemingly quite close 
to the house, a strange, wild, unearthly noise, rather a 
howl than a cry — and it sounded so plaintive and awful, like 
the cry for help of one that was perishing, and then again 
like the mocking laugh of a maniac, that the trembling girls 
pressed closer to their father, and many an otherwise brave 
man, surprised and startled, looked up and listened, with 
loud beatings of the heart, to the constantly wilder sounds. 


THE SETTLEMENT. 


125 


“ I say, brewer !” said the tailor, pushing him in the 
side, with all his strength, “ what’s that V* 

“ D n !” swore the latter, who had just dropped off 

into a doze, and whom the ungentle application called back 
again to partial wakefulness and suffering — for the two, at 
present, seemed inseparable — “ leave me alone ; what should 
it be ! — the watchman ! — don’t you hear his horn ?”* 

A fine sort of watchman, that !” said Schmidt. “ They 
don’t want a watchman for these two houses — the people 
in the streets here are quiet enough o’ nights, I’ll be 
bound !” 

“ Don’t speak so loud !” whispered the shoemaker ; 
“ yonder still sits the American, beside his dead wife. Ugh ! 
but ’tis awful to have a corpse in a room !” 

“ Awful ! — nonsense !” said the brewer, still half asleep 
— “ not if she lies still !” 

“You be quiet, will you !” whispered, fearfully, the tai- 
lor, “ if he over there hears you, he might take it ill.” 

“ How is he to understand German ?” replied the other. 
“ But whatever it may be, it’s howling on the other side of 
the house now. A bear, I dare say !” 

“ Oh ! don’t go frightening a fellow so !” exclaimed the 
tailor, half angry, half frightened. “ It’s bad enough as we 
are ; it only wants that to make it complete. Oh, geminy ! 
these gnats !” 

“ There never were such gnats as these before,” said 
Schmidt ; “ and I think the whole kit must have come across 
to us.” 

“ Oh, no! the Oldenburghers over yonder, seem to have 
got a few, too,” grinned the shoemaker, maliciously. “ One 
of ’em keeps hitting himself such raps on the face — his nose 
will be black and blue to-morrow !” 

“ I’m getting hungry,” yawningly said the brewer, who 
now began to wake up by degrees. “ Is it raining still ?” 

“ No ; it has ceased raining,” said the shoemaker ; 
“ but if the little town here is no better paved than the 
landing-place, good luck to our shoes ! there will be work ! 
Whoever has not got bull-hide straps to keep ’em on, will 
lose them in the mud !” 

* The watchmen in Germany, twenty years ago, used to (and, for 
aught I know, still may) carry a horn, like that of our newsmen, which 
they blew and announced the hours, &c. — T r. 


126 


THE SETTLEMENT. 


“ Town !” asked the brewer, who had been round the 
little clearing. “ Town ! there’s no town here, shoemaker — 
it must be higher up. I wish I could get something to eat ! 
— I’m very hungry, that’s a fact!” 

“ The howling has taken away all my appetite,” whim- 
pered the tailor ; “ blown it completely away, as it were. 
However, I shouldn’t mind a cup of coffee.” 

“ I should like to know where we are to get coffee from 
here,” said Schmidt ; “ and if we had any, we couldn’t drink 
it out of our hats ; I see no cups.” 

“ Well, then, we could unpack some,” said the tailor; 

“ but hush ! the man there is moving,” he continued, in a 
low whisper, as the woodsman, rising from his seat, drew 
back the mosquito net, which had hitherto covered the corpse 
of his wife. 

On a poor-looking mattress, stuffed with moss, lay the 
body of the young and beautiful American ; a plain white 
calico dress covered her limbs, and her long flowing chesnut 
hair clung around the pale sunken features of her noble face. 
The eyes were closed, and on the lids there lay two pieces 
of silver coin to keep them down. The right hand rested 
upon the heart, the left lay beside her ; she seemed to have 
fallen asleep gently, and without pain ; angelic peace was 
depicted on her pure and beautiful features. 

The young man gazed long and silently upon her, and 
he watched, as if in a dream, scarcely conscious that he did 
so, the individual mosquitoes which flew in through the now 
opened net, expecting a new meal. He noticed how they 
alighted upon the dear face of his wife, as though they ex- 
pected to find blood in the dry veins of the corpse, until he 
himself gazed upon the creatures with stifled breath. It 
came over him that his Maria — his all in this world — could 
not be dead, and he expected to see the little blood-suckers 
swell as they drew in her warm life-juices ; but scarcely 
had they bored their slight and pointed stings through the 
skin, and appeared to have made the first attempt, before 
they quickly and tremblingly, with evident signs of fear and 
alarm, endeavoured to free their little trunks, flew quickly 
away, and in confused haste sought in vain for the opening 
by which they had entered. 

With a deep sigh the unhappy man let his arm fall, and 
turned silently away ; it was then that his eyes met those of 


THE SETTLEMENT. 


127 


Pastor Hehrmann, who had risen in order to offer words of 
consolation and of courage to the sufferer. As he was en- 
deavouring to call to mind the little English which he knew, 
and was making several pauses in speaking, from lack of 
words to express himself ; the other made a sign to him with 
his hand, and said, in good and pure German, but with 
averted face — 

“ I am a German, Sir ; I understand your language.” 

“ A German l and alone in this neighbourhood ?” asked 
Hehrmann, surprised ; “ have you been long, then, in such 
melancholy circumstances ?” 

“ You shall hear all that when I have buried my wife. — 
Will you help me ?” 

“ Such is not only my wish, but my duty also,” said the 
clergyman, kindly. “ But, my dear Sir,” he continued, 
somewhat shyly and almost timidly, “ do you live really quite 
alone in this spot ? and is this house situate at the mouth of 
the Big Hatchee ?” 

“ Yes,” said the woodman ; “ the nearest house is three 
miles below ; just such another as this, and only built for 
the same purpose, cordwood chopping, for sale to the pass- 
ing steamers.” 

“ And there is no town hereabouts ?” 

“ No,” was the short, half-whispered answer. 

“ And further up the Big Hatchee — are there no settle- 
ments there ?” 

The man no longer seemed to hear him ; his eye again 
hung upon the pale countenance of his wife, and he resumed 
his seat beside her, no longer conscious of what was passing 
around him. 

Pastor Hehrmann did not venture to disturb him again, 
and the men stared inactively upon the silent suffering fig- 
ure without knowing what to do, afraid, on the one hand, of 
disturbing the mourning of the house, anxious on the other, 
not to lose time, so valuable to them, in order to reach, at 
last, the spot which was to be their new home. 

It was one of the women who first plucked up resolution, 
— the usually so bashful and retiring Bertha. She advanced 
to the hearth, blew the almost extinct embers into a liveli- 
er glow,* piled upon the flame such logs of wood as she 

* The fires in the back-woods are raked together at bed-time, and 
covered with thin ashes, and so remain all night, smouldering, so that in 


128 


THE SETTLEMENT. 


could find lying round the house, and fetched out some pots 
and pans which appeared to have been neglected for many 
days, in order, not only to get ready a wholesome warm 
meal for the settlers themselves, but for the owner of the 
house, who, judging from his appearance, had not probably 
taken any nourishment for several days past. 

An example only had been wanting, and greater activity 
now prevailed on all hands. The women got to work, and 
some assisted Bertha, while others carried wood and live em- 
bers over to the other house, to light a fire there also, and to 
prepare breakfast simultaneously at both places, for the by 
no means insignificant number of persons. 

Herbold and Becher, who were appointed to the commis- 
sariat department, meanwhile went down to the margin of 
the river, where their chests and other stores, for the most 
part, were still standing, and gave out the necessary provi- 
sions, whilst the elder Siebert, accompanied by his brother 
and two of the Oldenburghers, looked about the homestead 
for mattocks and spades, in order to dig a grave for the 
corpse, but nothing of the kind could be found about the 
place, and they were compelled to have recourse to their 
own tool-chest. But the mattocks were at the very bottom 
of the chest, and had no handles. One of the Oldenburghers 
fortunately recollected having seen two pickaxes inside the 
house, and went back to fetch them, when the eye of the 
young widower fell upon them, and he soon guessed for what 
purpose they were wanted. 

He quickly arose, beckoned the people to follow him, and 
led them about three hundred yards into the woods, where, in 
olden times, probably even before the Indians, a simple 
mound of earth, about ten or twelve feet in height, had been 
raised. There he begged them to begin their work. 

Among the settlers were three carpenters and several 
cabinet-makers, and they proceeded to work together, to con- 
struct a coffin, rough, it is true, but still adequate to its pur- 
pose, using chiefly the planks of a boat, whicjh they found 
there ashore and burst. As they were well provided with 
tools, in less than an hour the last and narrow house stood 
ready for the reception of its tenant. 

the morning they only require to be fanned a little, in order to burn again, 
so as to ignite fresh fuel ; indeed, the back log is usually a thick piece of 
heavy wood, which lasts a day or two. — T r. 


THE SETTLEMENT. 


129 


The young farmer, whose name, as they subsequently 
learnt, was Wolfgang, now returned, and the women having 
prepared breakfast, the rain having ceased, and a sandy 
place between the hut and the shore being dry, it was spread 
out there upon chests, and ingeniously-contrived stands. 

They had to press the mourner repeatedly before they 
could induce him to eat a few morsels, and to drink a cup of 
warm coffee, although during three days past, no food had 
crossed his lips ; he then went into the house to the corpse of 
his wife, and wrapped it in the sheet whereon she had been 
lying, and which was now to be her winding-sheet. 

Our four-leaved clover had meanwhile taken little part in 
the burial preparations, and, after their meal, were jnst about 
to stroll slowly off to look a little at the neighbourhood. 
But their little excursion was destined to be interrupted, for 
Mr. Becher, who appeared to adapt himself most readily 
to circumstances, however new to him, and who perceived 
that continued delay in this plaqe would only tend to tire and 
to dispirit the emigrants, called together all the able-bodied 
who had hitherto been unemployed, to put together the two 
carts which they had brought with them, and to load them 
with the things which were most indispensable for the present. 

Schmidt, as a farmer, and a wheelwright from Brunswick 
territory, performed the most effective services at this task, 
and in a short time the conveyances were ready for depar- 
ture. One trifle, certainly, was still wanting, namely, cattle 
to draw them, and it was not until all was finished, and ready 
to move on, that the good folks thought of this deficiency. 

It is true that neither horses nor other cattle could be 
seen about the place, but Mr. Becher did not doubt but that 
the farmer would find some ; for the wood, piled up in con- 
siderable quantities on the beach, proved clearly enough that 
more than human strength had been required to get it all to 
the margin of the stream* But for the moment there ap- 
peared no prospect of being able to induce the man, who was 
engaged in paying the last duties to his wife, to fetch horses 
or oxen, whichever he might possess, and all further work 
had to be suspended until the conclusion of that melancholy 
duty. 

Becher himself therefore began to examine the soil and 
surface upon which they now found themselves, more mi- 
nutely, and the four allies, with two Oldenburghers and the 

7 


130 


THE SETTLEMENT. 


wheelwright, now wandered along the margin of the Missis- 
sippi and looked at the surrounding landscape, as well as at 
the farm which had received them on their entrance upon 
their new mode of life with such melancholy and unpropi- 
tious omens. 

The tailor went ahead upon the narrow footpath which 
led along the bank of the Mississippi ; Becher and Schmidt 
followed ; then came the shoemaker and the brewer, and the 
Oldenburghers brought up the rear. They had scarcely 
marched 200 yards in this order before they came to the 
banks of a muddy brook with a rather wide bed, but which 
now appeared nearly dried up, and poured its muddy water 
in a narrow thread only into the Mississippi. Near its mouth 
several immense cotton- wood and cypress trees lay, wildly 
thrown together, forming a kind of natural bridge, whilst 
some broken branches and stems stuck in the mud of the 
brook in all directions, and appeared sufficient of themselves 
to prevent navigation, even with a light boat. 

Nearly all the stems which projected out of the turbid 
water were closely covered with small soft-shelled mud-tur- 
tles, which, when they perceived the approaching men on the 
bank above them, quickly flapped head foremost into the 
water again. 

“ A beautiful neighbourhood,” said the tailor, stopping at 
the extreme verge of the bank, and pointing to the scene be- 
fore them — “ a very beautiful neighbourhood ; and for this 
we have travelled, Heaven knows how many hundred miles, 
to take a summer lodging here ! Well, I must say Dr. Nor- 
mann shows remarkable taste ; I really admire it.” 

His companions, thus brought to a halt, also stared round 
them, though in silence, and the wide and dreadful desolation 
and loneliness of the scene probably excited no very pleasur- 
able feelings in them, for, avoiding each other’s eyes, during 
several minutes they gazed upon 3the wild boundless land- 
scape of swamp and water. Becher, however, looked shyly, 
sidelong, at the men who had accompanied him, and suddenly 
began to whistle a waltz with all his might. 

The tailor turned round, surprised, towards him, and said, 
“Yes, a nice time for whistling !” 

The wide expanse spread out before them was by no means 
calculated to produce an agreeable impression on new com- 
ers, particularly upon such as had not been accustomed to a 


THE SETTLEMENT. 


131 


flat country. On their left the muddy flood of the mighty 
Mississippi rolled rapidly and maliciously by, whilst, from 
the opposite side of the little brook, beside which they were 
standing, a sand-bank stretched out in smooth, monotonous 
evenness, farther and farther still, into the stream, until, in 
the gray distance, where the latter took a mighty sweep to 
the right, it seemed to connect itself with the opposite shore, 
and to absorb the enormous mass of waters. The other side 
of the Mississippi also presented to the view a flat landscape 
of deep forest and swamp, uninterrupted by a single hill. 

The vegetation was certainly grand, and these gigantic 
stems, which rose, smooth and faultless, to a height which 
they had never before contemplated, produced a strange, 
almost uneasy impression upon the wanderers then again 
the wild vines and creepers which wound themselves from 
stem to stem, the wild and desert-looking fallen masses of 
wood, often half rotten, the enormous withered trunks, which 
here and there, as if stifled by the creeping plants, madly 
stretched their naked giant arms towards heaven, as if sup- 
plicating help, gave the whole such a gloomy, forbidding 
aspect, that the little tailor, after a minute’s pause of aston- 
ishment, drew a long breath, as though he would have re- 
moved something from his heart ; at last he turned round to 
his friends and fellow-travellers behind him, and said — 

“ Well, I had imagined the thing quite different from 
this ; for if ” 

To the boundless astonishment of the rest, the tailor had 
all at once disappeared ; but before they had time to advance 
a step, they already heard, down below, in slime and water, 
a crying and splashing, which proceeded from their unfortu- 
nate comrade, who now, when at last he got firm footing, 
cried out lustily for help ; for he could not comprehend 
where he was, how he had got there, and whether he had 
reached the end of his career, or was destined to proceed 
further and further downwards. 

“ Halloo, below there !” cried Becher, who soon ascer- 
tained that the tailor had received no injury, and that there 
was no further danger — “ Halloo, there ! is it a good soil ? 
to what depth is' it arable ?” 

“ Help ! help !” cried the little one, who was in no hu- 
mour for joking — “ Help ! help ! I am drowning ! I can’t 
swim ! I must drown !” 


132 


THE SETTLEMENT. 


Close to him, not three yards off, there was a young cy- 
press tree which had fallen into the brook, and Becher now 
called to him to reach one of its branches until they could 
fetch a rope from the house and draw him up. 

Meier, however, seemed noways inclined to take a step 
towards his own safety ; fear had almost deprived him of 
his senses, and he continued to cry, “ Help ! help ! I’m 
drowning ! I can’t swim !” 

The houses were not very distant, and several of the 
women, who had heard the cries for help, hastened towards 
them, whilst the shoemaker ran, as fast as his legs would 
carry him, back to the landing place, to bring the necessary 
ropes from thence. But even then the most pressing re- 
quests and explanations were required to make the little 
man understand how he was to wind the rope round his 
body, and fasten it ; his whole presence of mind had forsak- 
en him, and he considered himself lost beyond salvation. 

At last he so far recovered his senses as to be able to tie 
a knot, and by their united strength, (for the mud in which 
he stuck was tough,) he was, after long pulling, and amidst 
the laughter of the women, brought to light. No sooner, 
however, did he feel himself on terra-firma again, than he 
doubled himself up, and swore hard and fast that a tremen- 
dous great snake had bitten him in the foot, and that he 
should die a lingering, miserable death. 

They had a good deal of trouble to convince him of the 
contrary, but ultimately he felt that he was safe and sound, 
and turned back with the others to the laden carts ; thence- 
forward, however, he could not be prevailed upon to come 
within fifty yards of the steep banks of either river or brook. 

The sun was tolerably high in the heavens before the 
remainder of the settlers returned from the burial of the 
young American woman; about the same time the wood 
cart belonging to Wolfgang arrived, drawn by two powerful 
oxen, beside which walked a negro boy about twelve years 
old, with a very long whip, who drove forward the cattle, 
which were in a wooden yoke, as well by blows as by words. 
He stared with surprise on finding so numerous and unex- 
pected a company assembled in so quiet a spot as that gen- 
erally was. 

The burial of his wife appeared to have restored all his 
former energy and power to the young German, and he was 


THE SETTLEMENT. 


133 


even ready to assist the strangers with counsel and deed, 
when Pastor Hehrmann had hastily made him acquainted 
with their immediate plan of settling not far from him, as 
well as with their wish to reach their destination as soon as 
possible. First of all he directed the negro boy to blow a 
horn,* which was in the house, to call in the other labourer, 
who was still at work in the woods, and then to put the oxen 
to the settlers’ laden cart. 

But here a new difficulty presented itself; this was the 
only yoke of working oxen which the German possessed, and 
he informed them that their road lay through a swamp, 
which would be so muddy and bad to get through, after the 
recent rains, that but a very light load could be taken. 

‘‘But would it not be possible to forward the cargo 
much more easily and quickly to its destination by the Big 
Hatchee ?” said Pastor Hehrmann ; a couple of stout row- 
ers ” 

“ Would be easily able to execute the task,” interrupted 
Wolfgang, “ if they had water enough for navigation ; the 
Big Hatchee is not navigable at present.” 

“ Is it far from here V’ asked Becher. 

“ That gentleman can tell you the precise distance,” said 
the farmer, pointing to Meier, the story of whose misfortunes 
he had just heard ; “ he was in it.” 

“What, is that the Big Hatchee ?” asked Becher and 
Siebert, startled. 

“ That is the Big Hatchee,” repeated the farmer, nodding ; 
“ but why do you ask ? had you imagined it more agreeable, 
or larger ?” 

“ Certainly, said Herbold, dispirited ; we heard that it 
was navigable, and that there was a small town at its 
mouth.” 

“ According to American notions,” replied the young 
farmer, a slight smile passing over his pale features, “ both 
assertions might be maintained. It is navigable in spring, 
that is to say, down stream, for you cannot make way against 
the current when the water is high.” 

“ But the town,” asked Pastor Hehrmann, in surprise — 
“ you don’t mean to call your solitary house a town ?” 

* The blowing of a horn is the usual signal to come home to break- 
fast, dinner, supper, or for any other purpose, on North American farms. 
— Tr. 


134 


THE SETTLEMENT. 


“ If you were to travel through the United States,” said 
Wolfgang, “ you might meet with many not more considera- 
ble towns than this, and with much more sounding names ; 
but the place here is not called a town ; it was only proposed 
to build Hatchee Town here, and some speculators planned 
out the streets. You may still see the trees marked out in 
the woods ; the Mississippi rose suddenly just then, washed 
away the little huts which they had erected here ; one of 
the land-dealers was drowned too, I think, and the thing was 
dropped.” 

“ But are you not afraid that such a flood may reach you 
some time or other, and sweep you away with it V’ asked 
Hehrmann, with signs of alarm. 

“ Certainly, that is by no means impossible ; and next 
year is a leap-year,* too, when the Mississippi regularly 
overflows its banks, sometimes more, sometimes less, and I 
was thinking of moving across to Arkansas, or down to Mis- 
sissippi ; but now,” he continued, in a low voice, while two 
large bright tears came into his eyes, — “ now I shall remain 
here ; if the flood should really rise — well — I have nothing 
more to lose.” 

“ But, tell me, my dear Mr. Wolfgang,” Hehrmann asked 
in terror, “ are all the dwellings along the river exposed to 
these dreadful dangers? — When that mighty stream once 
overflows its banks, such a mass of water must be irresist- 
ible.” 

“ Do you see these marks ?” Wolfgang asked, pointing 
to some faint, scarce distinguishable, light spots, which might 
be made out about eight feet from the ground, upon the bark 
of the trees under which they stood. “ Do you see these 
marks ? thus high the water rose last spring ; my house, it 
is true, lies higher than this, yet it came into our room, and 
it carried off about thirty cords of wood with it.” 

“ And you remained here ?” 

“ What will not one do to earn money? The steamers 
use much wood, and pay tolerably well ; I wanted to lay by 
enough to buy a little farm by and by in a wholesome dis- 
trict ; now my wife is dead, and I But let us start ; it is 

getting late.” 

* This seems to be rather unaccountable ; it may be the popular be- 
lief. — T r. 


THE SETTLEMENT. 


135 


“ But you are not going to leave your house now to ac- 
company us ?” asked Siebert, surprised ; suppose in the 
meanwhile ” 

“ My other negro will remain here,” Wolfgang inter- 
rupted him. “ Sam, the old fellow whom you see coming 
yonder, is faithful and honest; I can rely upon him ; besides, 
you would hardly reach your destination without a guide, so 
that there is no choice.” 

“ Oh, we might follow the road, you know,” said Becher. 

“ Yes, if there were a road thither,” answered the farmer, 
“ but to the spot which you have described to me there leads 
no road, and if there are really houses there, the place must 
be very much overgrown with second-growth brush, other- 
wise I must have come upon them in some of my hunting 
expeditions ; perhaps it is the place which the hunters call 
the dead clearing.” 

“ Have you much game in this neighbourhood ?” asked 
Von Schwanthal, who appeared much interested in this sub- 
ject. 

“ Pretty well,” replied the farmer, “ but it is difficult to 
get at ; the woods are too close, and the game itself is shy ; it 
requires a practised hunter to track and kill a deer.” 

“ Do you happen to know a certain Dr. Normann V 9 
Becher now suddenly inquired, as if struck by a new idea. 

“Normann ?” said the farmer, trying to recollect, “Nor- 
mann ; no, the name is strange to me — why ?” 

“ It is the name of the man who sold us this piece of 
land,” said Pastor Hehrmann ; “ from all, howe er, that I 
have hitherto seen, I scarcely think that he ever et foot here, 
and almost dread that Mr. HelldorPs prophec'cs will be ful- 
filled.” 

“Helldorf?” asked Wolfgang, in his turn, surprised; 
“ Helldorf — where did you meet with him ?” 

“ In New York,” said Siebert ; “ do you know him ?” 

“ Do I know him?” replied Wolfgang; “I passed my 
happiest time here in America, beside him in Arkansas, and 
had it not been for my mad endeavour to earn a sum of 
money, I might have been still with my Maria at the foot of 
the pleasant Magazine Hill. Oh ! that I had never seen the 
Mississippi again.” 

“ Then you consider the climate very unhealthy V 9 

“ Unhealthy !” said the German, in a low, hollow tone — 


136 


THE SETTLEMENT. 


“ unhealthy !” he repeated, even lower still. “ In the first 
year, my wife’s sister died — that ought to have been a warn- 
ing to me ; in the same fall, my child ; to-day we have 
buried my wife ; and next spring, it is to be hoped will find 
me by her side.” 

“ Come with us to the hills, then, where a healthier 
air blows,” said Herbold ; “ you can get land from us, 
and ” 

“ To the hills ?” asked the German, surprised ; “ how 
far up the Big Hatchee are you going, then ?” 

“ Well, the land is said to lie fifteen miles from the Mis- 
sissippi,” said Becher ; “ that’s a pretty good distance.” 

“ Yes, replied Wolfgang, “ but then, you are still fifteen 
miles from the hills, and in no healthier district than this is ; 
on the contrary, you want the air from the river, which is 
often fresh ; a number of small lakes, too, cross the country 
in all directions, and evaporate, for the most part, in sum- 
mer, and fill the atmosphere during four months of the year 
with their poisonous exhalations. Just now is the most un- 
healthy time.” 

“ The devil it is !” said Von Schwanthal ; “ the worthy 
doctor never said a word about that.” 

“ If he was ever in the valley of the Mississippi, he cer- 
tainly must have known it,” replied the farmer ; “ but now 
we’ll be off ; Scipio has been cracking his whip for the last 
quarter of an hour.” 

The emigrants parted unwillingly from the bulk of their 
remaining property, which at first they could scarcely re- 
solve to leave by the waterside, merely under the superin- 
tendence of a negro ; but at last they were convinced that a 
theft could hardly be committed here, for such a hut was 
certainly not a spot in the neighbourhood at which such val- 
uables would be looked for. The chests and boxes, there- 
fore, which contained the most necessary articles for the 
moment, to commence life in the midst of the woods, were 
placed on the carts, and even of these another selection had 
to be made ; then the party set itself in motion, under the 
guidance of the farmer, who went first, and with an axe cut 
down, where necessary, the underbrush and young trees 
which stood in their way, or called into requisition the united 
strength of the men, to drag aside obstructions in the shape 
of occasional mighty trunks of fallen, rotten or half rotten 


THE SETTLEMENT. 


137 


trees, and thus made way for the wagon, which fortunately 
was narrow across the wheels. 

The Germans were not a little nor agreeably surprised, 
when they discovered, after scarce an hour’s progress, that 
the broad path which they had hitherto followed, was a 
mere track for getting out wood, and that now they had 
to shape their course straight through the woods — and such 
woods. 

Fearful doubts now began to arise, even in the breast of 
Hehrmann, who had hitherto considered Dr. Normann an 
honest man, and it was with some anxiety that he looked for- 
ward to their entrance upon their new landed property. 

While walking beside Wolfgang, he entered into conver- 
sation with him, and soon learnt the story of his simple, al- 
though active life. 

Wolfgang hastily passed over a dark period in Arkansas, 
where a stranger, who was a German too, had sown hatred 
and discord, and stained their pleasant clearings with blood ; 
and he related how, far away, up the Ozark mountain, he 
had become acquainted with his wife; had fallen in love 
with her, and whilst still a young girl married her ; had 
founded a home in the midst of the wild woods, and lived 
happily, until, driven by the desire for ready money, which 
was not to be had at all there, he had quitted the healthy hill 
air to come down into the poisonous swamps. 

He concluded his story (which Mr. Hehrmann listened to 
with bowed head and sorrowfully throbbing heart) by saying, 
“ Mr. Hehrmann, you now, with wife and child, come from 
a healthy, cool climate, in the middle of summer, into the 
swampy atmosphere of this river, therefore hewarc. If wife 
and children are dear to you, commence your American 
farmer’s life in some other district. You have yet the 
choice ; this whole enormous country is yet open to you; all 
the northern, healthy states, Missouri, Iowa, Wisconsin, even 
the northern hilly part of Arkansas, if you are desirous of 
choosing a milder climate ; forsake these poison-impregnated 
swamps, where a German, unless already acclimated, can- 
not exist, or at all events cannot remain in health ; I speak 
from experience.” 

“ Mr. Helldorf said so too,” replied the preacher, thought- 
fully. 

“ Mr. Helldorf knows the country,” said Wolfgang, “ he 
7 * 


138 


THE SETTLEMENT. 


has wandered through it many a long year, and whatever 
he may have told you is true, you may rely upon it. As to 
your Dr. Normann, I certainly don’t know the good man, 
and will therefore say no ill of him, but here in America 
there is such a host of land-speculators, particularly in the 
seaport towns, that the emigrant cannot be too cautious ; I 
am almost afraid that you have fallen into the hands of such 
a one, and if so, why of course you must try to make the 
best of a bad bargain.” 

“ 1 say,” remarked the shoemaker to the tailor, stumbling 
for the fourth time over a projecting root, and this time really 
hurting himself, “ if I had any capital invested in this specu- 
lation, I should quietly begin to tear my hair out by the 
roots, but as it is, I can look on, and I must confess that I am 
curious to know how it will end.” 

“ Well, look after your feet, at all events,” said the 
other, as the shoemaker tripped again. “ You do nothing but 
stumble. No ; shares are beginning to fall, so far I am of 
your opinion ; but what matters ? I shall eat my way 
through , I’ve no fear of that ; and if M. Von Schwanthal 
only shoots as much game as he has promised, and we get 
meat, and such meat, too, three times a day, I don’t mind 
about this little mud excursion. Moreover, I’ve been on the 
look-out for some time past after a deer ; it’s strange that, in 
such a forest as this, the game should not be running about 
more plentifully. But, shoemaker, did you imagine the 
river on which our town was to be built, like what it 
really is ?” 

“ How ? what is it really 1 it does not exist at all. Call 
that a river ?” 

“ Well, what I mean is, did you imagine it like what 
it is ?” 

“ I don’t exactly know,” said the shoemaker, with a sly 
laugh at the tailor, “ I have not examined it so narrowly as 
you have, you know ; you have a well-grounded acquaintance 
with it.” 

“ A fine subject for joking, to be sure,” said the little 
one, indignantly ; “ suppose I had been drowned ?” 

“ If we creep along in this style,” said Schmidt, who now 
joined in the conversation, “ we shall certainly not come to 
our journey’s end to-day ; we don’t advance a hundred yards 
straight forward, before some tree or other has to be cut 


THE SETTLEMENT. 


139 


down to make room for the wagon. Are there no foresters* 
here, I wonder ?” 

“Yes, a nice place this for foresters,” said the brewer; 
“ foresters in this wood ! But if we don’t soon reach some 
place where one may get something to drink, I shall get 
thirsty. What do you call all the towns, then, that are said 
to be in this neighbourhood ? Deuce take it ; where there 
are so many towns, there must surely be some village or 
other to be met with.” 

The worthy brewer was not aware, that in the United 
States of North America every thing, even a group of two 
or three houses only, is called a town. A grand name, some 
ancient Greek or Roman one if possible, throws sand into the 
eyes of foreigners, and the land speculators in the large 
towns often sell “ lots,” as they call them, to emigrants, who 
expect to find a lively, animated place, and instead, have to 
be thankful if they can meet with any body at all there to 
supply them with bread to begin with. 

The women had meanwhile reconciled themselves to their 
wanderings as well as they could, and only one of them, a 
young girl, who was sick, and unable to walk, had been, on 
that account, placed upon the wagon, where, upon some 
spread-out mattresses between the well-secured chests, she 
had a sufficiently convenient, although not very quiet place, 
for the wagon, owing to the rough uneven road, tumbled 
about dreadfully. The Hehrmanns went foremost, and evi- 
dently struggled to let no melancholy humour be seen, 
although the tough mud which they had to wade through, 
and the innumerable stringy, and sometimes prickly, creeping 
plants, which entangled their feet, while the thorns penetrated 
their stockings, and tore their ancles and insteps till they 
bled, made walking as troublesome and unpleasant as well 
could be. 

Thus they wandered and wandered on, until the sun 
went down below the tree tops, for fortunately he had driven 
away the clouds of rain, and the heaven extended its blue 
tent, brightly and clearly, over the travellers ; but the close 
oppressive heat, on the other hand, operated yet more un- 

* Wood is used for fuel throughout Germany, and the numerous 
forests are under the care of officers, called foresters, who have assistants, 
called huntsmen, under them ; they plant, thin, manage, and cut the 
timber ; also preserve game, kill vermin, &c. — T r. 


140 


THE SETTLEMENT. 


favourably upon them, because no good water was to be had, 
wherewith to quench their burning thirst. The wished-for 
fresher evening air at last cooled their heated faces, although 
the mosquitoes, which had lain concealed during the glow- 
ing heat, now re-appeared with fresh vigour. Yet they 
cared less for these than for the burning rays of the sun, and 
wandered forward with quickened and more elastic tread. 
But ere long, their silent leader intimated to them that they 
must bivouack where they were, for that he could not trust 
himself to keep a straight course after dark, and besides 
that, to proceed further at night was not only extremely 
wearisome, but even dangerous. 

This was bearable enough in the mild summer air, and 
all of the party were easily and readily reconciled to it ; the 
coverings which they had brought with them were therefore 
stretched out to keep the dew from the women, and soft beds 
of leaves were collected to make the first night in the woods 
as pleasant as possible : and the men also laid themselves 
down beside the fires which Wolfgang had lighted, whilst 
the provisions which they had taken with them stewed and 
roasted at the crackling flames. 

And now again, fortunately, at a great distance, at first, 
the awful sounds were heard which had filled the settlers 
with such terror on the previous evening, and they were not 
a little astonished to learn that those dreadful notes proceed- 
ed from owls — and very insignificant little owls, too. Von 
Schwanthal, somewhat later, tried to shoot one; but although 
several of them, attracted by the fire, approached them, and 
gave out their monotonous horrid song in the tree-tops close 
above them, yet the foliage was too close to permit the eye 
of the marksman to perceive them in the darkness, and he 
discharged both barrels in the direction in which he guessed 
the noisy nocturnal bird to be — to the great terror of the 
female portion of the society, the tailor included — without, 
however, even interrupting the bird, much less driving it 
away. 

Fortunately, the night remained dry, although the sky 
became overcast again, otherwise the situation of the poor 
Germans, unaccustomed to. such privations, would have been 
a melancholy one. As it was, sleep visited the closed eye- 
lids of the wearied at intervals only, for the strange noises 
which surrounded them on all sides, the dreary rustling of 


THE SETTLEMENT. 


141 


the gigantic trees, and even occasionally the stealthy, cau- 
tious footsteps of some deer or wolf, that slunk round the 
bivouack, and only scented its enemies when it got to the 
leeward side, and then fled in hasty bounds — these kept 
them in continual excitement. 

At last, morning came. The oxen, which had remained 
yoked during the night, were put-to once more ; the quickly- 
prepared breakfast was despatched, and the caravan moved 
on again, sometimes painfully, through little muddy brooks 
and standing pools ; sometimes going round a wild and 
dreary-looking lake, without defined banks ; sometimes forc- 
ing their way through reed-brakes, sometimes through close- 
ly-tangled creepers, until at last Hehrmann, who, according 
to his calculation, had traversed a distance of twenty-five, 
instead of fifteen miles, addressed the guide, and inquired 
whether he did not think that he might have lost his way, 
for that it was impossible they could be far from the de- 
signated spot, if they had really constantly kept the true 
course. 

“ Oh, we have followed that,” replied Wolfgang ; “ more- 
over, the frequent turning aside to avoid wet and impenetra- 
ble places has much prolonged our journey ; but if my senses 
do not deceive me, we are now at the very place.” 

“ On the right road, you mean,” said Siebert, senior, 
who had likewise approached them, and now looked about 
him, right and left, apparently in search of some outlet by 
which they might avoid a thick copse, closely overgrown 
with young timber, which lay right before them, and which, 
on account of the many creeping plants and underbrush, was 
impenetrable. 

“ No; at the very spot itself!” said Wolfgang, observing 
the place attentively. “ Do you see yonder tree, which has 
been felled in by-gone times ?” he continued, addressing the 
men, who pressed round him. “ The lower part is wanting 
— it has been used for rails ; and yonder — yes, it’s a 
fact, I am not mistaken ! — yonder stood the fence. Look 
you, here are some single, half-rotten portions of it.” 

“But the field !” said Becher, alarmed. 

“ Was this thicket,” replied the German, “ now, it is true, 
a chaos of woods and underbrush. The land, for that mat- 
ter, seems very good !” 

“ But we were to find land fit for the plough !” exclaimed 


142 


THE SETTLEMENT. 


Herbold, advancing, in real alarm. “ You don’t mean to 
tell us that this wilderness is the fifteen-acre field !” 

“ I have never been here 'before,” replied Wolfgang, 
quietly, “ and must therefore examine the place first. But 
if your land has not been cultivated for fifteen years, you 
may rely, in case this really should not be it, that it will 
hardly look better than that which lies before you ! But we 
will hope for the best! Look you, a road has once led 
through here, this tree has formerly been blazed, although 
the bark has almost grown together again. It will be best 
to leave the wagon with the women behind us, and go round 
this wilderness, first of all ; if we can’t find the houses, we 
may come upon the section line — for according to your deed 
the land has really been surveyed — then we shall know di- 
rectly where we are and what we are about.” 

“ I doubt that !” said the shoemaker to Schmidt. “ One 
tree looks to me just like another, here ; and if I were called 
upon, at this moment, to say from which direction we came 
here, I should have to guess !” 

“ Well, I must admit, too,” said Schmidt, “that so long 
as the roads here are in no better condition, so long I shall 
not wander far from the rest — for whoever loses himself is 
done for !” 

“ Come along !” said the tailor ; there’s a house to be 
searched for !” 

“ Where is the house, then ?” asked the shoemaker, 
quickly. 

“ Well that’s just what they’re searching for !” grinned 
the tailor. “ Stupid as you are, you must know that !” 

“ Hark ye,” said the shoemaker, savagely, “ drop your 
larks — none of us are in the humour to listen to your non- 
sense just now ! But let us go along, too ; I should like to 
know whether our guide has found the right way !” 

Scipio had now to halt with his team ; and, in fact, he 
would not have been able, without the help of the axe, to 
advance any further ; for every road and outlet was wildly 
overgrown, and scarcely passable on foot, much less with a 
four-wheeled wagon. Following, therefore, the course of a 
small brook which ran in a north-easterly direction towards 
the Big Hatchee, after a short march, keeping to the margin 
of the thicket, and, as Wolfgang now positively asserted, 
former field, they reached the Big Hatchee, and also, close 


THE SETTLEMENT. 


143 


to- its soft, friable banks, a little log hut. However, Wolf- 
gang warned them from entering it ; for the earth round 
about, as he observed to the by-standers, was cracked, and 
the little house was every hour exposed to be precipitated 
into the muddy bed of the stream, as, apparently, had hap- 
pened to the former appendant and now vanished buildings, 
of which Pastor Hehrmann was then thinking. 

“ But is it not possible,” said Becher, despondingly, 
“ that we may be at the wrong place ? You might, per- 
haps ” 

“ Yonder tree is the north-east corner of the section,” 
replied Wolfgang, pointing to an oak standing at no great 
distance, the greater part of the rind on one side of which 
was peeled off, and on which some roughly carved numbers 
and marks were still discernible. 

“ Then the dwelling-house has fallen down at some ear- 
lier time ? ” said Siebert, junior. 

“ There it stands ! ” replied the farmer. “ A better 
dwelling than that was, in former times, you seldom meet 
with in this wild neighbourhood. How many buildings are 
specified, then ? ” 

“ A dwelling-house, with chimney — a smoking-house — 
a kitchen — a stable — and a maize-crib,” read Siebert, senior, 
from his pocket-book which he had got out. 

“ Do you not see that I was right ? ” said Wolfgang. 
“ Here you have proofs of my assertion : these are the re- 
mains. of the former chimney, which now certainly totters 
over the precipice, and may crumble and fall next night. 
The smoking-house must have gone before, at some earlier 
time ; and the kitchen, too, for I see nothing of them. But 
the stable is probably yonder heap of fallen logs ; at least, 
there is no trace of any chimney there, and the distance of a 
stable from the house is also about the right one.” 

“ And the maize-crib? ” asked Pastor Hehrmann. 

“ Probably stood in the field,” said Wolfgang. “ Doubt- 
less the remains might be found in yonder thicket ; but it 
would hardly be worth while to seek for them, for such 
maize-cribs are easily raised, with split logs, mostly of or- 
dinary fence-rails, and they generally rot in six or seven 
years.” 

“ But, in the name of goodness what are we to do with 
the women ? Here we have brought the unfortunate crea- 


144 


THE SETTLEMENT. 


hires into the midst of the forest, without a roof or shelter ; 
they cannot bear it.” 

“ Oh yes, though,” replied Wolfgang, with a gentle nod of 
the head, “ they can bear much, very much, and a few 
nights in the open air is not the worst that could happen to 
them. It is fortunate, however, that I came with you my- 
self,” he continued, in a livelier strain ; “you might have 
fared ill by yourselves, unaccustomed to the country and 
the climate.” 

“ How far are we from the nearest town ? ” asked Sie- 
bert, senior ; “ it would, perhaps, be best, after all, to take 
them there until we have erected habitations.” 

“ No,” said Wolfgang, decidedly, “ that is impossible ; 
first, the place is more than thirty miles off ; then, as I have 
heard from hunters, there are several lakes between this and 
it, before one gets to the hills, and besides, I don’t know the 
exact direction. But even if we could reach the town on a 
smooth, even road, I would not advise you to leave women 
over there by themselves, for such little towns are for the 
most part, inhabited by a rough, vicious people, the scum of 
the backwoods, and every thing is so frightfully dear, that 
the money which is here so hardly earned is squandered on 
the people there. No, we will soon knock up a few sheds, 
which will at least keep off wind and rain for a while ; when 
that is done, I shall return to my own house, and send the 
old negro to you with a portion of your remaining things ; 
he may stay here a couple of weeks and put what you re- 
quire into something like a regular train.” 

“ But, my dear Mr. Wolfgang, how shall we ever be 
able to repay your kindness ? ” 

“ Make yourself easy on that score, you have done more 
for me ; I shall never forget how kindly you buried my poor 
wife for me. Besides, this is no more than a neighbour’s 
office ; for you will learn, by and by, how far neighbour- 
hood extends in the woods. However, strictly examined, I 
am rather selfish than otherwise ; for I must have an occu- 
pation to amuse me, and after all that has occurred, of which 
you have only witnessed the tragical end, I should go mad, 
did I now remain alone and inactive upon my farm. There- 
fore, Courage ! things will go better. If you were not here, 
this would be one_ of the last places which I should have 


THE SETTLEMENT. 


145 


recommended to you ; but as it is, you are here, and all fur- 
ther delay and complaint are now useless.” 

“ But to think that we can’t even use one of the houses to 
shelter the women !” exclaimed Herbold, stamping angrily 
with his foot. “ Plague upon the stealthy rascal who has 
deceived and betrayed us under a friendly face ; if I could 
only catch him.” 

“Either he has deceived you,” said Wolfgang, “or has 
been himself deceived ; still, you yourselves are chiefly to 
blame for your misfortune — to give it its true name. You 
should not have bought directly, but should have first seen 
your bargain. Even in Germany you would not have pur- 
chased an estate without seeing it.” 

“ But, then, the low price !” pleaded Becher. 

“ You have an answer to that here,” replied Wolfgang, 
“ if the land had been presented to you, it would still have 
been bought too dearly if it did not please you, and you had 
to undertake a long journey to it with wife and child, with 
bag and baggage. But it will be a warning to all of you for 
the future. Moreover, I recommend you to remain here no 
longer than is necessary to get over the first alarm, and to 
enable you to look round either in the neighbourhood, or the 
adjoining states, for a healthier district ; to travel about at 
random with so many people won’t do at all. You must first 
find something that will suit you. Until then, this place is 
good enough, and when that is done, we will migrate together, 
for I, too, must first get my stock of cordwood to the river 
side, and there sell it.” 

“But the houses,” repeated Herbold. 

“ I should not have advised you to have entered them 
even had they been standing ; snakes and all kinds of ver- 
min take up their abode in such ruinous old wooden build- 
ings. But to work ! I will now give you some practical les- 
sons in house-raising.” 

“ Are you a carpenter ?” asked the shoemaker. 

“ Not exactly, but every thing else that is wanted, or 
rather, that necessity teaches us, in the woods. But of that 
hereafter : you will learn all that yourselves — one single 
year in America, in the bush, often does wonders.” 

“ But we must make arrangements for the night,” said 
Pastor Hehrmann ; “ we must not allow the women to be 


146 


THE SETTLEMENT. 


exposed to any accidental storm that may arise — the sky, too, 
is cloudy.” 

“Do not fear, my good sir,” said Wolfgang; “do you 
see the roof of yonder house ? Although the planks* upon 
it are for the most part rotten, yet we shall probably find 
among them enough to erect a temporary roof for to-day and 
to-morrow. We shall get along by-and-by ; first of all we 
must find the place where you think of erecting your future 
abode ; when that is done, we will take the luggage there, 
unpack the wagon, bring it here, and fetch away all the 
boards that we can find, which are good for any thing. 
Luckily, I have brought tools for splitting such slabs as we 
may want, for I guessed that the place would look pretty 
much as it does — and as ” 

“ Mr. Wolfgang, you have become our guardian angel,” 
said Pastor Hehrmann, gratefully grasping his hand. “ What 
should we have done if we had arrived in this desert without 
you ? the very idea is shocking ; for, unfortunately, even as 
it is, with you, it is bad enough. But you are right ; further 
reflections are unavailing here, and we must now prove 
that we not only wish to become American farmers, but that 
we have the strength and perseverance to carry out our 
resolution.” 

Wolfgang, quite aroused from his sorrow by the need in 
which he saw so many of his fellow countrymen plunged, 
by the appeal made to his whole activity and knowledge of 
life in the woods, and who hoped to find alleviation, or at 
least temporary forgetfulness of his grief in distraction, 
undertook the cause of the new settlers with cheerful zeal ; 
he soon chose a somewhat elevated spot, not far from running 
water, and near enough, also, to the place where the people 
would have to clear their first field ; then worked and toiled 
as though he were about to found a home for himself, and to 
clear and till his own land. 

They quickly removed thither the things which they had 

* Rough shanties and small log-houses are sometimes covered with 
planks, as in the text ; but the more usual course in America is to roof 
houses with shingles, which are rectangular pieces of pine split (with a 
shingle knife) into the thickness of about a quarter of an inch, or less, 
and these are nailed on, overlapping each other, like tiles ; they are light, 
weathertight, and durable, and only inferior to tiles, slate or tin, in being 
more liable to accidents by fire. — Tr. 


THE SETTLEMENT. 


147 


brought with them, and pacified the women as well as they 
could, concerning their disappointed expectations ; for to con- 
ceal the facts from them for that day would have availed 
nothing but to have made them anxious all night, and to have 
still, of necessity, learnt them on the following morning. 

The plan with the old planks turned out well ; the greater 
part of them were still serviceable, only the getting them 
down was attended with some danger. But the tailor, on the 
one side, and Scipio on the other, performed essential services 
on the occasion, and the former boasted not a little of the 
dangers to which he had been exposed, when, two nights 
later, the ruinous hut, with the whole piece of ground on 
which it stood, really followed the kitchen and the smoke- 
house. 

The precaution for the encampment proved to have been 
necessary, for towards morning there fell a tolerably smart 
shower of rain, from which all the settlers were protected, 
and next day they proceeded with fresh energy to the erec- 
tion of the shanties in which they intended to pass the winter. 

But now it appeared how much they all had to learn, for 
no one knew how to handle the axe, and in splitting the four 
feet long slabs, they were all, even the^carpenters themselves, 
very awkward. Wolfgang did not allow any trouble to put 
him out, but worked from morning until late, and on the 
evening of the second day he had the satisfaction of seeing 
that all had a roof to their heads, and that the company was 
at least sheltered from storm and rain. 

The articles left behind, on the banks of the Mississippi, 
now began to be much wanted, and their friendly helper de- 
termined to return with his negro, and to send up the other 
black to the raising of the houses and chimneys.* He 
promised to relieve him again himself, for it w r ould still be 
too quiet and lonely for him on his desolate hearth ; received 
a few commissions to buy provisions for them of the steamers 
which might land there, and, after bidding a hearty farewell 
to all his newly-acquired and worthily deserved friends, left 
the “dead clearing,” as the place had really been called, on 

* As the old chimney, even assuming it to have been of brick, would 
not have sufficed, the reader may perhaps ask where the bricks and mortar 
came from ; but it is common in shanties in the woods, when these can- 
not be had, to form chimneys of slabs of bass-wood, and plaster them with 
clay. It need hardly be added that they sometimes take fire. — T r. 


148 


THE SETTLEMENT. 


account of its desolation, by the hunters who made excur- 
sions thereabouts. , 

The entire colony now consisted of fifty-three persons, 
children included ; of mechanics, there were, three carpen- 
ters, two cabinet-makers ; a blacksmith, a locksmith, the 
tailor, shoemaker, and brewer, a tanner, and a glazier’s ap- 
prentice. The latter, a young lad, had only come out to 
New York with them in search of his father, but had ascer- 
tained from an acquaintance whom he accidentally met there, 
that his parent had died, and had been buried about three 
weeks before. 

The poor boy, who was scarce fourteen years old, had now 
no other resource but to join the society, which kindly re- 
ceived him ; there was very little stirring in his own way 
of business, it is true, at present ; for glazing windows, there 
were wanting not only sashes for the panes, but houses for 
the sashes; but he soon found out that the axe played a 
prominent part in the woods, and determined to devote all 
his skill to that. 

Wolfgang perceived, even during the first few days, with 
what zeal the boy worked, when he could get hold of the 
American axe for a few minutes ; for those which they had 
brought with them from Germany were not of much use, ex- 
cept as wedges, and when he returned to the Mississippi, he 
left it with the boy, in order that he might exercise himself 
in its use. 

Charles, as he was universally called by the passengers 
of the Hoffnung, did not require to be told this twice ; from 
morning until evening, he stood in the woods, and hacked, 
and chopped, and thought himself richly rewarded, when he 
could hear the mighty stems fall with a loud crash.* 

The shoemaker, the tailor, and the brewer, did not parti- 
cipitate in this passion in the least. Working in the open air 
was altogether disagreeable to them ; to stand in the sun all 
day, and “ hack about at that hard wood,” as the tailor ex- 
pressed himself, did not agree at all with their constitutions. 
But, as even the committee-men worked hard, and as Pastor 
Hehrmann in particular, from early till late, was the first at 
work and the last to quit it, they were ashamed to lag behind, 

* Persons who once take to chopping — i. e., felling trees — prefer it to 
all other work, and even feel a kind of passion for it. — T r. 


THE SETTLEMENT. 


149 


so did their best. Meier always doubled himself up like a 
clasp-knife, when he got under the shed of an evening, and 
during all the first week was too fatigued to eat a morsel. 
The shoemaker intimated, on his part, that were he in 
Germany, he should join the society for prevention of cruelty 
to animals. 

One only of the male portion of the colony had not yet 
done a stroke of work, either with the axe or otherwise ; this 
was Yon Schwanthal; for provisions were wanting, or, at 
least, want before long could be foreseen, and the hunter 
shouldered his double-barrel, and stalked into the woods. 

Now there was nothing unusual in this ; on the contrary, 
it was a matter of course ; every company that bivouacks in 
the woods — be they raftsmen, on the banks or neighbourhood 
of a stream, or settlers, or even trappers of beavers and otters, 
— have their hunters, often five or six men, who hunt in the 
vicinity of the camp, and regularly bring in their booty. 
The colony stood much in need of such a hunter, or rather, 
of several such, but Von Schwanthal was not the man for it; 
for hardly had he ventured a hundred paces into the thicket — 
scarcely did he find himself surrounded on all sides by heaven- 
aspiring trees and wild bush, before he listened attentively 
for the sound of the axes, as it reverberated towards him, so 
that he might not possibly miss the direction ; and he would 
not have been induced to leave the neighbourhood of the people 
for all the game in the world. That he could not get a shot 
in this way may be imagined, and he came back regularly 
every evening, weary and hungry, in order to victual himself 
again for the following morning, to beat about the semicircle, 
with which he now began to be ; tolerably acquainted, once 
more, and afterwards to abuse &e neighbourhood in which 
fortune had cast them, for want of game. 

The old negro arrived about this time, with the second 
load, several more axes, a barrel of flour, a barrel of beans, 
and a barrel of salt pork ; he brought also a fowling-piece, 
one of the long Yankee rifles, with him. 

Von Schwanthal viewed this new shooting apparatus with 
a very incredulous smile, for the rough stock, carved out of 
very common wood, the old, rusty barrel itself, which cer- 
tainly could not boast of a promising appearance, the large 
knife with a brown wooden handle, the old leather bag, with 
a couple of flints, two bullets, a screw-driver, and a mould ; 


150 


THE SETTLEMENT. 


these, taken altogether, looked any thing but sportsmanlike, 
and contrasted very unfavourably with the excellent appara- 
tus of the German sportsman. 

But when the latter got up, on the ensuing morning, he 
heard a shot at no great distance from him, and looked about 
every where for Sam ; but Sam had started before daybreak, 
and shortly returned, panting under the weight of a splendid 
young deer, which he carried upon his shoulders. 

This disgrace had to be wiped off. Von Schwanthal 
never could look any one in the face again, if that fellow 
scarcely got his rubbishing old gun out, before he returned 
laden with spoil, while he had been on the look-out during 
four entire days, and had not brought home so much as 
a claw. The time for exertion had arrived ; the zealous 
hunter hardly gave himself time to swallow his breakfast, and 
hurried off as fast as his feet would carry him, right into the 
trackless thicket. But when arrived there, his sporting 
ardour cooled down considerably, for he reflected upon the 
hopeless condition of a person who should lose his way in those 
swamps ; but his feeling of honour got the better of this 
thought ; his entire reputation as a sportsman was at stake ; 
he must kill something or other. He was well enough aware, 
though, that so close to the camp, where the game could hear 
the strokes of the axe, and the rasping of the saw, as well, 
if not better than he could himself, there was no chance ; 
taking care, therefore, to keep the sun straight before him, 
he walked right on in that direction ; he avoided no thicket, 
no fallen tree, but pressed on through the one, and climbed 
over the other, and soon found himself above his knees in 
water, in a swamp which spread itself out before him, and 
as far, at least, as he could see, was nowhere bounded by 
higher ground. 

What was to be done now ? Should he turn back, or en- 
deavour to force his way through that desert of swamp, and 
catch a dreadful cold, if he got nothing else ? Suddenly, he 
heard something splash to his right ; immediately afterwards, 
a couple of dry boughs snapped, and yonder — yonder, scarce 
thirty yards distant from him — bounded a mighty stag, in an 
open place in the woods, where the water, too, seemed to be 
but a few inches in depth. For a moment, the hunter stood 
as if thunderstruck, for the whole had taken place so sud- 
denly, so unexpectedly, that he could hardly recover him- 


THE SETTLEMENT. 


151 


self ; at last, however, he mechanically raised the gun to his 
shoulder, and pulled the trigger. 

But, alas ! in vain did he press the trigger till he almost 
pressed it down — no hammer fell— no discharge followed ; 
the stag sprang about twenty yards further, and for some 
seconds more stood looking at the strange object in the water. 
Yon Schwanthal pulled and pressed, till the perspiration 
stood in drops upon his forehead. But in vain ; the hammers 
descended, it is true, but the piece did not go off — not so 
much as a cap even exploded. It was then that he recol- 
lected the unlucky “ patent safety,” which he had pushed 
forward whilst among the creeping plants and underwood ; 
he quickly pushed it back, but the deer was, by this time, 
probably tired of waiting — Heaven knows how long ! — to be 
shot at, and fled in rapid bounds into the thicket ; and the 
two cracking shots which were now sent after him — alas, too 
late — only served to add wings to his already mighty bounds. 

Schwanthal stood, and gazed after the stag, as he disap- 
peared in the bush, and then down at his gun. He next 
seated himself upon the bough of a prostrate oak, which pro- 
jected out of the water, took a screw-driver from his pocket, 
and very deliberately removed both of the safety screws from 
the lock ; wrapped them in a small piece of paper, and then 
went back to the nearest dry land, or rather, to that which 
was not covered with water, and trod them — without a sylla- 
ble, without a single oath, but with such rage and determi- 
nation — into the soft damp earth, that they had soon pene- 
trated far into it ; he then, giving them a last hearty farewell 
kick, said : — “ So now, lie there till you rot — when I want 
you again, I’ll let you know.” 

So far so good. Now the first thing was to re-load the 
gun ; but what was to be done then ? To wade further into 
the mud, or to turn back, and that without having accom- 
plished his object ? No, on no condition could he do that ; 
the attempt, at least, must be made, and, besides, the sun 
shone so clearly and so cheerfully that, losing one’s self was 
out of the question ; so he cautiously stepped further and 
further through the silent, listening woods — futher still, till 
at last he reached a small flat ridge, which traversed the 
swamp from east to west, and was itself dry. 

If he shotild follow this he must leave the sun a little on 
his left, and it was very questionable whether he would after- 


152 


THE SETTLEMENT. 


wards find the right direction on his return. He determined, 
therefore, to remain on the watch where he was, where, of 
course, it was just as possible that a head of game might 
come right towards him, and where he would incur no danger 
of losing himself. 

With a patience that would have done honour to a saint, 
hour after hour he stood there, immovable, and listened 
attentively, often breathlessly, when here and there a dry 
twig fell into the water, to the slightest noise, to the gentlest 
sound, to the most trifling rustling of the leaves. At last, 
however, the declining sun warned him of his return, and, 
although he could not conceal from himself, that the best time 
for the movement of game was just beginnning, yet he could 
not prevail on himself to remain there, and perhaps after- 
wards lose his way in the dark, for the sun was his only 
guide in the wilderness. 

Chagrined, he slowly turned to quit the post he had 
hitherto kept ; but — fresh horror ! — whither ? The sun, as 
he now for the first time considered, had been travelling 
through the sky during many long hours, and stood in a 
totally different quarter from that which it occupied in the 
morning. Should he now find his way back ? — might he not 
turn off too much either to his right or left ? The bare idea 
raised his hair on end. Snatching up the gun, he sprang in 
great haste over the narrow tongue of dry ground, and over 
the other side into the swamp again, in order not to lose 
any more valuable time, and waded, as fast as his feet would 
carry him, right through it, with such exertion and haste that 
the water often splashed right over him, and in less than a 
quarter of an hour’s march he was completely wet through. 

But his fears seemed to have been verified, for he ought 
long since, as he firmly believed, to have reached the spot 
where the trees felled by the settlers were lying, and yet the 
swamp did not come to an end ; for although Von Schwanthal 
saw dry land on his left, he would not on any account deviate 
from what he considered the right course. He now felt the 
water grow more shallow, and immediately afterwards found 
himself upon dry ground — ran over it — came to one of the 
immumerable little muddy brooks, which cross the country in 
all directions — dashed through it without pausing to consider ; 
found himself up to his arm-pits in water — climbed as well as 
he could out on the other side — and, being now firmly con- 


THE SETTLEMENT. 


153 


vinced that he must have lost his way, as he knew nothing of 
this brook, he began to call out with all his might'for help. 

“ Mercy on us ! what’s the matter ?” asked the little tailor, 
who stood close beside him without his having noticed it, 
— “ why, you’re on dry ground again.” 

“ Oh, Meier, are you here ?” exclaimed Von Schwanthal, 
delighted ; “ why, there’s the shoemaker too. You haven’t 
— surely, you haven’t lost yourselves, have you ?” 

“ Lost ourselves? no, no !” laughed the little fellow ; “ we 
are too wide awake for that; I, for instance, never go further 
away from the rest than I can reach with my hand one of 
them, at all events. But what did you halloo so for ?” 

“ Oh, I — I — haven’t you seen a stag come past here ?” 
asked Von Schwanthal, taking up his cue, for he was ashamed 
to let the people see that he had been frightened. “ I only 
called ‘ Look out !’ in case any one might have been out here 
with a gun.” 

“ It sounded exactly like ‘ Help !’ ” said the shoemaker, 
grinning, and giving the tailor a sly push with the crosscut- 
saw, which rested on a slight oak, felled by Charles’s hands, 
lying between them. “ Have you shot nothing ? — there was 
a report.” 

“I — I wounded a stag,” answered the sportsman ; “ but 
there was so much water on the spot, that the tracks could 
not be followed, I couldn’t trace the blood ; and, as I had no 
dog, why ” 

“ Of course !” said the tailor, elevating his eyebrows and 
nodding his head violently — “ of course ! I think I shouldn’t 
catch a stag either, without a dog— the critters run so fast.” 

Schwanthal turned away in vexation, and, in a very bad 
humour, strode towards the encarnppnent, which was no 
longer distant ; but he suddenly began to limp, and declared, 
when he arrived at the first fire, where he met Mrs. Hehr- 
mann, that he had sprained his ancle, and most likely must 
gyve up wandering about for a few days. 

Von Schwanthal was pretty well cured of his apparently 
insatiable passion for sport, and even began to help the 
labourers at their work ; but that was the wisest thing he 
could have done, for he thereby escaped ridicule, and he 
comforted himself meanwhile with the idea that he should 
soon be sufficiently acquainted with the woods — at all events, 
in the neighbourhood — as to be exposed to no further danger 

8 


154 


THE SETTLEMENT. 


of losing himself, and to be enabled to hunt in all direc- 
tions. 

The men worked away perseveringly, without murmur- 
ing, and the women, seeing the energy and spirit with which 
the men bore the greatest hardships, abstained from com- 
plaining about their failed hopes and disappointed expecta- 
tions ; but instead thereof, as it could not be helped, they 
bore their privations with exemplary patience and fortitude. 
Hehrmann’s family, especially, was foremost in setting a 
good example, and Bertha and her sister Louisa were the 
first at every kind of work. 

But the men stood in need of such encouragement, for 
their labours progressed very slowly ; the negro, it is true, 
had arrived, and with his help many a tree lay felled and 
chopped ; but it was not until now, when they had begun 
the work, that they perceived the full extent of all they had 
got to do. How they were to clear five acres of land, in as 
many years, appeared an inexplicable riddle to them all, 
however they might conceal their thoughts from each other. 

The tailor gave vent to his feelings the most candidly of 
all, for when Wolfgang relieved the negro again, he showed 
him the dreadful blisters which he had got on his hands, and 
confessed to him (in confidence, of course) that he never 
could think of passing another year in that place. 

But where, during all this time, was the doctor, who, for 
the sake of a few hundred dollars, had sent the poor settlers, 
ignorant of the country, in such a shameful manner into the 
wilderness ? As he had now obtained his end, received the 
money, and left the strangers to their fate, the most natural 
thing for him to do was to take himself off, and carry away 
his plunder to a place of security — and such had been his 
original intention ; but something on which he had not reck- 
oned, and which he had not foreseen, forbade the execution 
of it ; for a wild uncontrollable passion took possession of 
his heart for the lovely daughter of the pastor. Blinded by 
love, he determined to follow the colony to its destination, 
and partly to weather the storm of those who would discover 
that they had been deceived, partly to turn it off — to remain 
in Bertha’s neighbourhood, perhaps to make her his wife — at 
all evfints, to be able to call her his. With this object he 
had, as a primary step, to ascertain what her feelings were 


THE SETTLEMENT. 


155 


towards him, and it was for this that he had approached her, 
on the last morning, with a confession of his love. 

But her cold behaviour showed him at once what he had 
to hope from her heart and feelings ; moreover, it could not 
escape him how she blushed and became embarrassed at the 
allusion to Werner. 

At a glance — with the glance of a man of the world — he 
saw that nothing was to be accomplished there by honest 
wooing ; but he was not the man so readily to give up a plan 
he had once formed. During eleven years past a sojourner 
in foreign lands, during the latter portion of that time in 
America, he had learned to surmount whatever obstacles 
might come in his way ; and as he was not particular whe- 
ther he resorted to honest or dishonest means, if he could only 
attain the ends he had proposed to himself, he seldom failed 
in carrying out his plans. 

But, to follow to Tennessee those very settlers who had 
been deceived by him, to play a part in all those unpleasant 
scenes which he could very well foresee, and yet not advance 
a step nearer to his aim, did not seem to him expedient. 
He determined, therefore, on remaining in Cincinnati for the 
present ; for that Bertha must be his he had vowed, and only 
the more stimulated by the obstacles to the realization of his 
project, he now considered ways and means to carry off, by 
force, the girl who would not voluntarily follow him. 

How difficult, how impossible, almost, pursuit was on the 
Mississippi, when that mighty stream, with its wilderness on 
either shore, once divided the pursued from the pursuers, he 
knew but too well, and all that he now required was some 
trusty friend to assist him in his undertaking. Such an one 
he had already found in Cincinnati, on the previous evening, 
and while the “ Dayton ” was puffing and blowing down the 
beautiful Ohio river, Normann and Turner (the latter a 
gambler by profession from New Orleans, but who stayed in 
the North during the warm summer months) stood on the 
quay, and Turner said, smilingly, when the doctor had made 
him acquainted with his wishes — 

“ Capital, doctor — capital ! And she has got a pretty 
sister, too, eh ? 

“ A beautiful girl,” he assured him. 

“ Here’s my hand, then ; I’m your man ! I could not 
better employ my time, till the healthy season in New Or- 


156 


THE SETTLEMENT. 


leans commences again. Perhaps we may get both the 
girls.” 

“ That is hardly possible ! — how are we to bring them 
away ?” 

“ Well, it’s all one,” said the profligate, laughing ; “ we’re 
sure of one. Moreover, I know that part of the country 
as well as though I had spent all my life there. Five of us 
once ran all the way from Randolph up to the Hatchee on 
foot, most of the way at night, and with about twenty stout 
boatmen after us. I shouldn’t forget that chase, were I to 
live a thousand years.” 

“And how did you get off?” 

“ There was a small boat on the Hatchee ; we jumped 
into it. The owner would have made some difficulties, but 
luckily I had a loaded pistol with me, — but that has nothing 
to do with it. The bargain is made.” 

“ Shall we go alone ?” 

“ No ; we must have some one else to row, but I know 
one that will do ; a free nigger in the town here, whom I 
could lead to perdition with us for twenty dollars a month, 
and an extra allowance of whisky.” 

“Good, — such a fellow will be useful. And when shall 
we start ? To-day ?” 

“ Halloo ! not so fast. I have got a young Italian, who 
has been recommended to me, to pluck first ; he seems im- 
mensely rich, so we will get all ready for starting ; perhaps, 
a hasty departure may be convenient some of these days.” 

“ Well, then,” said the doctor, “ I’ll get together every 
thing that is necessary, and this evening we’ll meet at the 
old place in Sycamore-street.” 

Normann left him, and walked along the quay, and up 
Main-street ; but Turner remained, with his arms folded, 
and followed Normann’s retreating figure with a contemptu- 
ous smile, and wheeled round on his heel when the other 
turned the corner, and disappeared in the street to the right ; 
and with the same malicious expression he whispered to 
himself — 

“We’ll steal the girl together, my little doctor, and if 
she’s as pretty as you’ve described her, why you shall help 
me ; but if you suppose, my short-sighted Dutchman, that 
she’s for you, •why you’re confoundedly out in your reckon- 
ing, I guess !” 


EXCURSIONS HITHER AND THITHER. 


157 


CHAPTER V. 

EXCURSIONS HITHER AND THITHER. 

We have almost too long neglected a principal person in 
our narrative, young Werner; we left him sadly musing on 
the banks of the beautiful Hudson river, and must now re- 
turn to him. 

“ Well,” said Helldorf, smiling, “have you nearly done 
looking ? My friend, my friend, it almost seems to me as 
though the most serious thoughts in the world — thoughts of 
marriage — were floating in your head. Consider that your 
chief object in coming to America was to earn something, 
and that until that is done Well, then,” he said, inter- 

rupting himself with a smile, when he saw that Werner 
turned his back impatiently upon him, “ it’s the old story, 
and all that I may say will not alter it. But come along, 
Werner, else we shall really miss our boat, and that’s the 
most important thing to us at present.” 

“ And will you indeed accompany me, my dear Helldorf?” 
asked the young man. 

“ I suppose I must,” said the other, with a shrug of his 
shoulders ; “ but it’s no such great sacrifice I am making. 
In the first place, I am heartily sick of my stay in New York, 
and I have in fact some business to look after in Philadelphia, 
which, if it does not absolutely require me to go there, yet 
renders my presence desirable. We will therefore lose no 
more time, but take our things with us at once ; and, if I can, 
I’ll accompany you on your journey as far as Cincinnati, for 
I’m much mistaken if you remain more than four weeks in 
Philadelphia.” 

“ My dear fellow, however much my heart yearns towards 
Tennessee — as I feel but too well that it does — yet it will be 
impossible for me, within that period, to conculde that which 
I ought to conclude in Philadelphia, or rather, to speak more 
correctly, to commence the formation of connexions which 
I ought to form there. But we shall see ; perhaps you your- 
self may like to stay much longer.” 

“ Well, we shall see, certainly,” replied Helldorf. “To 


158 


EXCURSIONS HITHER AND THITHER. 


speak candidly, I should, in your place, have gone with them 
to the settlement at once.” 

“ To become a farmer ?” 

“ For no other purpose ; but you are just like all the rest 
— you will only learn by experience. But we must really 
be off. Do you see the smoke yonder ; that’s from the Phi- 
ladelphia packet-boat, and we have little enough time left to 
get all our things on board.” 

The young men returned to the town arm in arm, and in 
another hour they stood upon the splendidly fitted-up steamer 
which was to conduct them to the proud Quaker city. 

Their journey wes a short one ; they went by water to 
the southern shore of Staten Island Bay, removed the little 
baggage which they had to the railway there, and, in six 
hours more, they found themselves in the most beatuiful, but 
assuredly, also, the most tedious, of North American cities. 

“Well, and what do you think of setting about next?” 
inquired Helldorf of Werner, when, towards evening, they 
had deposited their luggage, and were walking about Chest- 
nut-street, the principal street of Philadelphia, which was 
then crowded with well-dressed people. 

“ Why, to deliver my letters of recommendation, of 
course,” answered the other, smiling. “ I have been so ur- 
gently recommended to certain houses of business here, that 
I may be permitted to hope that I may receive some assist- 
ance from them in furthering my plans. Yes, Helldorf, I 
may confide in you — I know that I can confide in you” — 
continued the young man, seizing his friend’s hand, and be- 
coming more animated ; “ you have behaved so heartily to- 
wards me, even from the very first, that I must unreserved- 
ly unfold all my plans to you.” 

Helldorf smiled, but pressed the right hand which was 
extended to him, and replied, “ And may I not guess 
them ?” 

“Partly, perhaps,” said Werner, and his countenance 
coloured more deeply — “ partly, no doubt — my love for 
Bertha — but that is not all ; that is only the sunny point of 
my existence — the aim towards which my whole exertions, 
my whole soul is directed ; but you shall know the means 
also by which I hope to attain my object, and you shall tell 
me whether you approve them or not.” 

Helldorf slightly bowed, and Werner began: — 


EXCURSIONS HITHER AND THITHER. 


159 


“ In stating my endeavours and plans, I probably shall 
be merely describing those of thousands besides, who, like 
myself, are thrown upon these shores without means, and 
who wish to make their fortunes, as the phrase is. 

“ When I embarked at Bremen, almost my only wish and 
intention was to travel through the states in all directions ; 
my plans are now altered. Taking all things into conside- 
ration, I don’t think that Pastor Hehrmann will agree long 
with the committee whom they have chosen.” 

Helldorf nodded his head, significantly. 

“ He himself is poor,” Werner continued, “ and the time 
may arrive when he may stand in need of a friend ; so I 
will set to work with zeal and earnestness, — get some situa- 
tion here, which I must soon be able to do — work, speculate, 
devote my whole life to this one object, and then present 
myself, cheerfully, to the parents of my beloved, and ask 
them for their daughter’s hand, — then I shall have deserved 
her.” 

“ Well said, my worthy young friend,” said the Ken- 
tuckian, laying his hand upon Werner’s shoulder; “but I 
don’t see why you should make such preparation here in the 
East ; your prospects here are very uncertain.” 

“ My recommendations ” 

“ I beg of you for Heaven’s sake, say no more about your 

recommendations : those . However, I will not make 

your heart heavy ; but, Werner, if you will follow my ad- 
vice, you will go to the West as quickly as you can, and 
become a farmer ; every month that you pass here is so 
much time lost, for farmer you will become, after all. You 
are no merchant, have never been one, and, in short, are not 
at all fitted for an American trader.” 

“ But I don’t see why not ! I understand book-keeping 
thoroughly.” 

“ Oh, I don’t mean on account of want of knowledge ; 
that, if necessary, could be acquired by you, and soon, too 
— you are too honest !” 

“ Why, my dear Helldorf, you surely don’t mean to 
affirm that the American merchants are dishonest ?” 

“ No, certainly not,” exclaimed Helldorf; “ and I should 
be very sorry if you should so misunderstand me , but more 
is required in order to be a merchant here in America than 
merely book-keeping and speculating on the Exchange ; for 


160 


EXCURSIONS HITHER AND THITHER. 


this last branch of business we have a special class of men, 
the money-brokers as they are called, who, I may say, in 
passing, don’t stand in very good odour. But the German 
is no match for the American in business, because he is too 
considerate. The Jews get on about the best of any here ; 
they soon adapt themselves to the manners and customs of 
the coifhtry, begin in a small way, and do not let either pains- 
taking or shame discourage them — and become rich. But 
in America the standard of honesty is different from that of 
Germany. In your country, for example, a bankrupt who 
should become rich by his bankruptcy would be stamped 
with infamy. It is quite different here ; I know people who 
have been bankrupt three times, who possess more than a 
million of dollars, and are accounted among the most respect- 
able men of the city wherein they live. In Little Rock, 
one of the richest merchants made a declaration of insol- 
vency, and yet, at the same time, was building a couple of 
large brick houses.” 

44 But how was that possible ?” 

44 Oh, in that way any thing is possible, and the Ameri- 
cans call it 4 smart.’ ” 

“ That’s the word which Dr. Normann mentioned to me. 
But about the merchant ?” 

“ The doctor is acquainted with it, no doubt,” said Hell- 
dorf, with a smile. 44 Well, the merchant in question had 
settled all his property upon his wife — no one could take any 
part of it from him ; the creditors came, but had to draw off 
again without getting any thing.” 

44 But the houses ?” 

44 Oh, his wife was having them built ; he had nothing, 
of course — he was a poor ruined man ; however, every body 
gave him credit again, and as soon as he had obtained his 
certificate, he began business afresh with more spirit than 
ever. I could relate hundreds of such instances of people 
whom I have known personally.” 

44 That certainly does not say much for their honesty, if 
such a proceeding is reckoned an ordinary mercantile trans- 
action,” said Werner; 44 but, be that as it may, trade cer- 
tainly is the quickest way to acquire a little property ; and, 

I should think, that if one were honest and upright, buyers 
must soon find it out, and it would carry weight.” 

44 Oh, my dear Werner, that’s of little use here; the 


EXCURSIONS HITHER AND THITHER. 


161 


modest man remains behind, and without puffing and quack- 
ery, a poor devil can seldom get along in America, unless, 
as I have already observed, he turns farmer. These are 
my views, but I don’t wish to palm them upon you as the 
views of all the world ; I shall even be glad, on your account, 
if you should not find them confirmed.” 

“ But I have no capital to begin with — at least ” 

“ If that makes any difference at all, it’s rather in your 
favour than otherwise,” said Helldorf, smiling ; “ don’t sup- 
pose that the people who bring over capital with them pluck 
roses here. ‘ Where there is nothing, the Emperor himself 
can’t levy tribute,’ and * he who has no money pays no pre- 
mium*’ But these sort of sayings are thrown away upon 
emigrants ; they must try it all themselves ; afterwards, 
they get along better in every way.” 

“ But I feel a real desire within me to set to work at a 
business life here.” 

“ Very well, my dear Werner, then I won’t dissuade 
you,” replied Helldorf, good humouredly ; “ deliver your 
introductions to-morrow, and we’ll see what may turn up. 
It’s getting late, so let us make haste back to our inn, else 
we may arrive after time, or miss our supper, which is about 
the same thing.” 

The two friends returned to t heir boarding-house, and as 
Werner went out rather early on the following morning, the 
afternoon was advanced before they met again. 

Werner came home Very tired; he had delivered a 
number of letters of introduction, and had found a good 
many of the people, whom he had subsequently to call upon, 
from home, which altogether was no trifle in that immense 
city. However, he had been asked by all to call again next 
day, a sure sign that the people intended not to accept the 
introduction merely, and then drop the matter, but that they 
would exert themselves a little for him. 

He had received an invitation to dinner for the next day 
from a merchant named Harvey, whom he had found a very 
agreeable man, and he promised himself much satisfaction 
from it. 

“ Well then, our paper is going up,” said Helldorf, with 
a smile ; “ well, I wish that I may prove a false prophet. 
We will remain together a little longer this evening, for to- 
morrow I must go to Germantown on some business, which 

8 * 


162 


EXCURSIONS HITHER AND THITHER. 


will detain me for three days at the most, and I hope after- 
wards to see you finish with Philadelphia and your future 
prospects.’’ 

“ Hardly so soon,” said Werner, incredulously ; “ but 
time will show ; from all that I have seen to-day, however, I 
think that I may fairly be sanguine.” 

At the public dinner-table they met several other Ger- 
mans, among the rest a M. Von Buchenberg, who was seated 
next to Werner. He had been some weeks in Philadelphia, 
and purposed to visit the West, in order to survey several 
districts of land in the interest of some company or other, 
which already had a high-sounding name. 

Von Buchenberg was not calculated, however, to give 
much encouragement to young Werner, for he abused the 
town soundly : 

“ The devil take this pious Philadelphia !” he exclaimed, 
indignantly ; “ they keep Sundays here so strictly, that one 
daren’t so much as peel an apple, and yet all the while there 
they sit in their rocking-chairs, and calculate and plan, how 
they shall cheat each other next day. Heaven alone knows 
all the sects that crawl about here ; there are Quakers and 
Methodists, Baptists, Presbyterians, Millerites, Schulzerites, 
and Meierites, and Pleavea knows what other names the 
fellows have ! A shudder comes over me when I see the 
gang of thieves, cutting about in snuff-colored suits.” 

“ But the Quakers are very plainly dressed,” said Werner, 
taking up their cause ; “ indeed, ’tis a part of their religion 
to attire themselves in as quiet a manner as possible.” 

“ Certainly,” exclaimed Buchenberg, “ but is it not 
strange that they should dress themselves up in a costume 
which every body else has long since ceased to wear? The 
women, too, don’t they just coquette in an alarming manner 
from under their black sun-bonnets of such a very pious cut ! 
Well, then, the town itself!” continued the little man, who 
had just got into train, “ this regularity at last becomes 
quite unbearable, and one dare not go abroad without a 
compass. If you inquire of any one in the streets which 
way you are to get to so-and-so, they don’t answer you as 
reasonable people in other reasonable places would answer : 

‘ You go down yonder, then take the first turning on the 
right or left as the case may be, go through that street, and 
then through such another street to the place you wish for;’ 


EXCURSIONS HITHER AND THITHER. 


163 


oh lord, no ! — if you ask a Philadelphian your way to ever 
so near a place, he says directly : ‘ Oh, you can’t miss it ; 
you go from here three streets south, then you turn westward 
till you come to the fourth, then again two streets south, and 
it’s to the east the third house on the north side.’ Now I’ll 
appeal to any body, isn’t it enough to drive one wild ?” 

“ Why, the points of the compass are easily remembered,” 
said Helldorf, with a smile. 

“ It happened just the same with me,” Werner declared. 

“ Easily remembered ! — how so ?” said Von Buchenberg, 
who now got rather warm on the subject. “ Suppose that 
it’s cloudy ; and besides, since when, I should like to know, 
have all men learned astronomy ? I know that the sun rises 
in the east and sets in the west, but therewith, Basta, the 
rest does not concern me. If I want to know about it, I 
look into the almanac. But that isn’t all ; the other day I 
was sitting at this very table, and yonder, where that gentle- 
man now sits, there sat a Quaker ; in the middle of dinner 
he stretches out his arm, and points down the table, saying 
to me, ‘ Friend, may I trouble thee to reach me that north- 
west dish.’ I sat, regularly non-plussed, and stared at him, 
whereupon he added, by way of explanation, ‘ that one to the 
south of the soup.’ Why, it beats all ; what, am I to go 
outside the door, and look after the quarters of the heavens, 
or else have a pocket compass always ready beside my 
plate ?” 

Helldorf and Werner laughed heartily, and the worthy 
Von Buchenberg was quite right, for the regular plan of the 
town in which all the streets run at right angles from north 
to south, and from east to west, has familiarized the inhabit- 
ants with this mode of expression. And it must be allowed 
that when the ear has once got accustomed to it, the most 
distant places may be thus admirably and accurately desig- 
nated ; but to the emigrant, unless indeed he happen to be a 
seaman, the thing sounds oddly. 

Next morning, Helldorf started on his little journey, and 
Werner ran about from one merchant to another, made calls 
upon calls, and was met every where by mere civilities, or 
at most by a dinner. He became heartily sick of this kind 
of life, and longdd for the return of his absent friend, 
although he almost dreaded his ridicule, for every thing 
had happened pretty much as he had foretold him. Still 


164 


EXCURSIONS HITHER AND THITHER. 


he was at least conscious that he had not neglected any 
thing which he had to do, and had done every thing in his 
power. 

Helldorf returned at the time appointed ; but, contrary to 
expectation, he did not ridicule his friend, but merely excus- 
ed the men (merchants for the most part) to whom the intro- 
ductions had been addressed, for not having paid more atten- 
tion and regard to them. 

“You see, my dear Werner, every year many thousand 
persons arrive in the United States, the majority of whom 
entertain the settled conviction that they cannot get along at 
all unless they bring their pockets full of introductions 
which certify on the face of them to the good people — 
‘ Hark ye, I am so and so, a respectable, decent person, and 
it would much oblige Mr. So and so, in Europe, if his es- 
teemed friend in Philadelphia or New York, or whatever the 
place may be, would receive me in a friendly manner and 
aid me with word and deed ; the friend in Europe would 
also, in return, be most happy to render any similar service.* 
Yes, that’s all very well, but how seldom does it happen that 
any one requires an introduction for Germany ? for America 
it is a matter of daily occurrence. No, the merchants in the 
great commercial towns are regularly inundated with such 
recommendations, and we must not by any means blame 
them, if they are not beside themselves with joy and gladness 
so soon as they see a stranger enter their house, poking such 
a letter of introduction, as a snail does his horns, before him. 
1 Help, thyself,’ is the motto here, and whoever is thoroughly 
impressed with that need not fear. But, Werner, I have a 
proposal to make to you. I have accepted a commission in 
Germantown, which will oblige me to go to New Orleans, 
will you go with me ?” 

“ How far is it to New Orleans ?” asked Werner. 

“ One can tell that you haven't been long from Germany,” 
said Helldorf, with a smile. “ Here nobody asks how far it 
is to a place, but the question is, 4 How do you get there V 
I intend to go by water. If you like, make up your mind 
quickly, and we’ll go back to-morrow to New York, whence 
the packet ship 4 Mobile ’ starts for New Orleans, and, if we 
have a favourable passage we may get there in a fortnight. 
In New Orleans you can look about you a little ; who knows 
what may offer itself there ? and after a stay of about a week, 


EXCURSIONS HITHER AND THITHER. 


165 


I promise to accompany you to any little river in Tennessee 
which you may propose. From New Orleans we can get 
up there in three days.” 

“ Oh, my dear Helldorf, Philadelphia has discouraged me 
very much ! What am I to do in Tennessee ? How can I 
hope — how dare I ask, for Bertha’s hand ? How am I to sup- 
port her ?” 

“ Oh, means will be devised,” exclaimed Helldorf; “ only 
you must set the right way to work, and an industrious man 
need not fear to strive in vain. Trust in me, my dear Wer- 
ner, and I’ll put you on the right track, and if you don't fol- 
low it, why it’s your own fault. Do you go to New r Orleans 
with me ?” 

“ Agreed ! — here’s my hand. It’s true that I have a 
couple of introductions for that place, too ; but they shan’t 
determine me, for I’ll not use them and, in the first im- 
pulse of vexation, he pulled the letters out of his pocket, 
and would have thrown them into the stream which flowed 
past. 

“ Hold !” said Helldorf, seizing his hand ; “ we must 
not condemn all without distinction ; such letters are like wet 
percussion caps, they generally miss fire; sometimes, how- 
ever, one does explode, and the gun goes off. Such a bit of 
paper is not heavy, and, at any rate, can do no harm.” 

Werner put back the letters into his pocket, but opined 
that something unforseen must happen to induce him to make 
use of them. 

Their preparations for the journey did not occupy much 
time, and as a favourable wind filled their sails from New 
York, they passed Sandy Hook on the second evening, and, 
steering due south, entered the open sea. 

With the exception of some storms, which they had to 
encounter in crossing the Gulf Stream, their voyage was as 
quick and as pleasant a one as could be expected at the 
season ; only the heat became very oppressive as they sailed 
along the Gulf of Florida, past the Havanna, for the wind, 
which had hitherto brought some cool breezes with it, now 
almost ceased. 

F It was on the sixteenth day from their departure from 
New York, that Werner, stretched out on the bowsprit of the 
ship, looked forward at the steamer which was approaching 
them, for the purpose of towing the ship through the labyrinth 


166 


EXCURSIONS HITHER AND THITHER. 


of the Mississippi Delta, about eighty miles up the broad 
stream, to New Orleans. She soon laid herself alongside the 
ship, the ropes were made fast, and, leaving the flat, reedy, 
and swampy shores of the outer mouth behind them, the 
“ Porpoise ” steamed away against the current. Now they 
glided past between mighty forests intergrown with reeds, — 
now these became more open — plantations became visible, — 
and now, as they approached nearer and nearer to the gigan- 
tic commercial city of the south, the constantly increasing 
civilization and culture had driven the old, venerable, prime- 
val, forest far into the background, so that its distant tops 
could only be discerned as a green stripe on the horizon, and, 
instead thereof, a boundless sea of waving sugar-canes, and 
tall, stiff, cotton-plants surrounded them. 

Night closed in too soon for the astonished spectator, and 
by day-break he was already awake again and on deck, to 
admire the panorama of New Orleans, now spread out before 
him in all its grandeur. 

If, even on his landing at New York, he had found him- 
self surrounded by a peculiar foreign-looking kind of life, 
how much more was this the case here, where the tropical 
countries were wafting their warm luxurious breath towards 
him ! The innumerable ships and vessels of all descriptions 
which bounded the shores with a forest of masts, the multi- 
tude of steamers arriving and departing, the sailing-boats 
shooting backwards and forwards across the river, the little 
fruit-boats, the crowding of wagons with goods on the shore, 
the movements of the cheerful, well-dressed crowd, which 
seemed to be thrown together there from all quarters of the 
globe, — all these so occupied his senses, that he scarcely no- 
ticed that the ship was landed and moored to the quay, and 
his attention was first called to the fact by the idlers and 
business-people who pressed on board. 

Helldorf, who had been several times before in this capital 
of the South, and to whom the bustling and picuresque 
scene was no longer a novelty, had, meanwhile, handed over 
the luggage belonging to them both to a drayman or carter, 
whose number he took, and the friends lounged slowly across 
the Levee,* up into the town. 

* The Levee in New Orleans, and indeed throughout Louisiana, is 
the dyke or dam thrown up along the Mississippi, which hinders the 


EXCURSIONS HITHER AND THITHER. 


167 


“ What do you think of New Orleans ?” asked Helldorf, 
at last, as they turned into one of the principal streets which 
ran parallel with the river, and Werner stopped, really as- 
tonished at all the magnificence and splendour which met 
his wondering eye on every side. 

“ There certainly is something grand about such a city,” 
said Werner ; “ but it’s too much for me, it oppresses more 
than it pleases. It is beautiful to see once, but I don’t think 
that it would please me for a continuance.” 

“ Exactly my idea,” said Helldorf, “ however, my friend, 
in a week or two it will present a different spectacle. As 
soon as the yellow fever comes in here, the most of the 
occupants (those who possess the means, that is to say,) go 
out, and of those who remain a large number die off like 
flies. I was once in New Orleans in September, and all 
these streets, now so crowded with people, were deserted and 
empty, and as silent as the grave ; many were even boarded 
up, and on innumerable doors black crape fluttered, or boards 
were hung out, containing cautions from approaching too 
near, as the pestilence was raging within.” 

“ I suppose Germans don’t remain here much, for the 
climate must be especially pernicious to them.” 

“ Germans usually form one half of the entire number 
of victims,” said Helldorf ; “ they come here, live intem- 
perately and dissolutely, and expect to be pble to endure and 
to keep in health where thousands of their countrymen 
perish miserably, and are buried like dogs. Oh, my friend, 
’tis a melancholy chapter that, and we’ll talk more about it 
some other time. For the present, while ’tis yet cool, we’ll 
stroll about a little ; by-and-by, it will be insufferably hot 
in the streets. Will you deliver your letters of recommen- 
dation here ?” 

“ No, I’ll not vex myself any more,” replied Werner. 

“ But one of them is sealed,” said Helldorf ; “ perhaps it 
contains private matter, and may be of much interest to the 
party to whom it is addressed.” 

stream from overflowing the adjoining lands, which, when the waters are 
high, are on a lower level than itself. In New Orleans, it is more espe- 
cially used as a landing place for steamers and a public promenade, and 
in general is the scene of the greatest bustle, on account of the constant 
arrival and departure of ships and vessels, while dealers and hawkers 
increase the throng and noise. 


168 


EXCURSIONS HITHER AND THITHER. 


“ I think not ; the writer of it, an old uncle of mine, 
read the contents to me, and then sealed it in my presence ; 
it is just an introduction like the rest, and for a quondam 
Doctor of Medicine too, who is said now to have turned far- 
mer, somewhere in the southern part of Missouri ; he won’t 
be able to help me much.” 

“ Well, don’t say that, replied Helldorf, with a dissenti- 
ent shake of the head ; “ perhaps, more than all these tra- 
ders and merchant gentry here, who look upon an emigrant 
as a piece of goods, as perishable goods merely, if they can 
get any benefit out of him, but entertain a holy horror of 
him if such be not the case, or they even fear that he may 
become burthensome to them. But come, we will look up 
an old friend of mine, who keeps school here in Poydras- 
street — a college friend.” 

“ And he has turned schoolmaster ?” 

“ Lord ! what does one not turn to in America, if an 
opportunity occurs or a good prospect offers. As he writes 
to me, he is doing very well. This is the number of the 
house. I think we may as well go in at once.” 

“ But shall we not disturb him ?” 

“ Oh, they’re not so particular about that here ; besides, 
the school will probably be thinly attended in summer, and 
I shouldn’t wonder if the holidays had already commenced. 
But we can soon convince ourselves.” 

They mounted a narrow, steep staircase to the second 
floor, and, when arrived there, found themselves without any 
necessity for tapping at the door, in the middle of the school 
as it were. The door of the room, which was not a large 
one, stood open, on account of the heat ; the windows like- 
wise ; and scholars and teacher sat, mostly in their shirt 
sleeves, in the cool draught which streamed through the 
house. 

“ Helldorf!” exclaimed the schoolmaster, a handsome 
young man, with dark curly hair, jumping up, surprised, 
from the two chairs, on which, half extended, he had made 
himself up a very comfortable seat. “ Helldorf! where the 
deuce do you drop from ?” 

“ Do we disturb you ?” asked the other. 

“ How can you think of such a thing !” was the laugh- 
ing answer. “ Well, the holidays commence next Friday, 
and to-day is Monday, and then the vexed soul will rest !” 


EXCURSIONS HITHER AND THITHER. 


169 


“ And where shall you go to V* 

“Up the river, of course !” 

“ Why, that’s just the thing — we shall travel together, at 
all events, a part of the journey. But stay, I must first of 
all introduce my friend Werner to you — a German, just ar- 
rived, who thinks of settling in the West. I trust that you’ll 
be good friends.” 

The two young men shook hands ; and the scholars — a 
mixed company of French, Creole, German, and English — 
nudged each other, and tittered at the German, or “ Dutch” 
as they termed it, that was spoken. 

There were boys and girls of all ages, and of the strangest 
appearance, thrown together. But one of the queerest speci- 
mens stood right before the little reading-desk, and in front of 
a large black board, which was hanging on the wall, and 
half covered with the alphabet in Roman and German char- 
acters. 

“ Look ye, Helldorf,” said young Schwarz, smiling, as he 
laid his hand on the shoulder of the hopeful young citizen of 
the world, who, with his knees somewhat turned inwards, and 
his hands in his pockets, stood in by no means a picturesque 
attitude before them, and exhibited his projecting profile 
staring from beneath a matted head of hair. “ Here I have 
a prize specimen of my scholars — a juvenile Benjamin 
Franklin, only undeveloped; a diamond, only rather rough ! 
He is one of those rare individuals for whose genius this low 
sphere is too narrow, and who may be found by dozens, 
armed with spoons and bits of stick, at the sugar and syrup 
casks on the Levee ! Come, Benjamin, now mind what 
you’re about !” — turning towards the youth, who was about 
twelve years of age — “ don’t disgrace me, but show what 
you have learnt. Do you know any of the letters that are 
written on here— eh ?” 

Benjamin distorted his mouth into a broad grin, till it 
reached from ear to ear, balanced himself from the left foot 
to the right, began to poke, not his hands alone, but his arms 
also, into his pockpts, and nodded his head in token of intelli- 
gence. 

“ So, you know some of them ! But come, take your 
hands out of your pockets — that is not becoming !” 

Benjamin obeyed the command, as far as the right side 
was concerned, and produced five fingers which certainly 


170 


EXCURSIONS HITHER AND THITHER. 


appeared to confirm the master’s former speech, and not 
only bore antediluvian traces of syrup, but also of Levee 
dust. 

“ The other, too, Benjamin,” said Mr. Schwarz. 

The left followed — rather slowly, it is true — but still it 
followed. However, it seemed to feel an irresistible disposi- 
tion to occupy itself with something, and meanwhile, laid 
hold of the left foot, which was raised towards it. 

Helldorf smiled, and the foot fell back into its old position. 

“Now, tell me which of these letters you know ?” asked 
Mr. Schwarz. 

Benjamin, thus driven to extremity, first drew his right 
sleeve carefully across under his nose, and made divers 
efforts, which severally miscarried, by. reason of the grave 
look of the master, to slip the left hand into his pocket again. 
At last, he made a step forward, rubbed the palms of his 
hands once or twice violently together, not so much to their 
damage as of the dried syrup, grinned yet broader than be- 
fore, advanced a second step, and pointed, half abashed, to 
the capital “ H.” 

“ So, you know that letter ?” 

Benjamin nodded his head, significantly. 

“You don’t know any other?” 

*A violent shaking of his head confirmed his negative 
answer. 

“ And what do you call that one ?” 

The catechumen peeped from one stranger to the other, 
with an embarrassed smile, rubbed the palms of his hands 
with unmistakable zeal on both his hips, looked first at the 
board, then at his toes, and then up to the master — and at 
last whispered — 

“ I do — a — n’t know !” 

But Helldorf and Werner could stand it no longer ; and 
the whole class joined their loud laughter in a full pealing 
chorus, and a weight seemed to be removed from their 
hearts. 

“ Go home !” exclaimed Schwarz, who had great diffi- 
culty in keeping his countenance. “ You need not come 
back this afternoon ; but mind, let me have your lessons 
well learnt by to-morrow !” 

He had no occasion to say this twice ; the command was 
obeyed so promptly that none of the boys stayed to put on 


t 


EXCURSIONS HITHER AND THITHER. 


171 


their jacket!, but each of them seized his few books under 
his arm, and struggled towards the stairs, in order, if possi- 
ble, to be the first, but at all events, not the last, who should 
forsake the school-room. Even Benjamin seemed in a mo- 
ment quite transformed ; he squeezed a small and very 
much crumpled straw hat on his head, and dived, with ap- 
parent contempt of life, right into the midst of the throng that 
was hurrying out. 

In a few more seconds, the three young men were the 
only occupants of the room ; and Helldorf, still laughing, 
inquired of his friend how, in the name of wonder, he had 
got into such a situation ?” 

“ The matter is very simple,” said Schwarz ; “ I had 
nothing else to do — could obtain no employment — and be- 
came schoolmaster ! Thousands do the same, in America ; 
and out of the forty-seven thousand elementary schools 
which the United States possess, I am quite convinced that 
there is not one thousand which can show masters regularly 
educated from youth upwards to their profession ! Nothing 
is more easy than to pass a schoolmaster’s examination ; and 
as neither party is bound to the other, nothing is more easy 
than to put an end to the relation !” 

But such a constant change of masters must operate 
very prejudicially upon the children themselves,” said 
Werner. 

“ Certainly it does. But the masters must have a better 
provision made for them, if they are to be expected not to 
throw up their employment as soon as any thing better may 
offer ! We are not in Germany, where a poor schoolmaster 
must put up with his lot, because he cannot hope to earn his 
bread in any other way, and where, if the attempt should 
fail, his return would remain closed from him for an endless 
time. If I were to accept a situation as dancing-master to- 
morrow, or were to go upon the stage, or take to performing 
conjuring tricks, it would be a very trifling obstacle, if, in- 
deed, it would be one at all, to my becoming a schoolmaster 
again !” 

“ Are the schools all established on the same system as 
this one ?” asked Werner. 

Schwarz laughed. “ Speak out what you mean to say ! 
— established without any system at all, like this! Why 
we certainly cannot require better things, in summer, in 


172 


EXCURSIONS HITHER AND THITHER. 


New Orleans. In winter my class is — or rattier, was — 
three times as well attended ; the lessons are regularly 
heard, and order prevails. But during the summer every 
thing slumbers — and in four weeks from this time the city, 
whose commercial activity now seems boundless and inex- 
haustible, will look like a Protestant church on a week day ! 
But we are wasting time here! We will pass the heat of 
the day at my house, and towards evening stroll through the 
town. Then it is that it shows itself in its splendour, and 
that one can understand the possibility of there being people 
who, notwithstanding the annual return of the plague-like 
yellow-fever, yet bid defiance to the infection and to their 
fears, in order to live in New Orleans.” 

Helldorf got through a good deal of his business on this 
day, and Werner, in the meantime, remained in Schwarz’s 
company, where he soon discovered that he too was intend- 
ing to bid adieu to town life, and — to become a farmer in the 
woods of the West. 

“ As soon as I once forsake New Orleans,” said he, “I 
shall never return to it. I have got through one year safely 
— to remain a second would be to tempt Providence ; the 
two hundred dollars that I have been able to save will found 
myself a home.” 

“ Two hundred dollars ! How is it possible ? why, with 
that you cannot buy even the most needful things.” 

“Oh, yes,” answered Schwarz, with a smile; “you 
don’t want much in the woods; if you like to come along 
with me, I will give you some practical instructions in the 
matter. You may still profit from a schoolmaster.” 

“ And do you really believe that with two hundred dol- 
lars ” 

“Not you,” interrupted Schwarz; “not a newly arrived 
emigrant ; unless indeed he follow reasonable counsel and 
instruction ; but with those it is possible even for him ; but 
in that case he does not succeed upon the strength of his two 
hundred dollars alone, but makes use of the premium, also, 
which his advisers have paid ; in my own case, that amount- 
ed to seven hundred dollars — quite a decent little fund.” 

“ And you, yourself, will settle?” 

“ Yes ; I will build my shanty, and clear a little land 
this fall and winter; then I can begin at once next spring.” 

“ And cattle ?” 


EXCURSIONS HITHER AND THITHER. 


173 


“ I will rear, also, of course — ’tis the chief source of 
profit.” 

“ And do you really think that, in a few years, one may 
earn enough to — to ” 

“ To keep a wife,” said Schwarz, with a laugh. “ Eh ! 
that was what you were going to say ?” 

Werner coloured up to the eyes. 

“ Why, of course,” continued Schwarz, who noticed it 
with a smile. “ It is only as a farmer that you have a pros- 
pect of soon being enabled to marry ; it is even, to a certain 
extent, a necessary consequence, for a bachelor’s household 
in the bush is rather too dull an affair. Have you got a lit- 
tle wife already !” 

<{ I ? No, Heaven forbid !” 

“ Halloo ! don’t rear your hind legs directly !” said 
Schwarz ; “ I didn’t want to inquire too minutely- But, be 
that as it may, we can try it, at all events — if you don’t like 
it, why, Lord bless you, you can give it up again. One 
takes to something else — better luck next time.” 

Thus the matter was disposed of for the present, and five 
days passed away in a constant whirl of excitement, for eve- 
ry thing that the young German saw and heard possessed the 
charm of novelty, and was invested with the magic of a 
southern climate, so that he several times hinted to Hell- 
dorf, that he felt an almost irresistible impulse to jump on 
board of the first ship that started, and visit the tropics. 

But every one dissuaded him from undertaking such a 
voyage, especially at that time of the year ; Helldorf espe- 
cially exhorted him to abandon these ideas. 

“ For,” said he, “ we are destined for a temperate climate, 
and although we may force ourselves into the torrid zone, 
still, either we perish there, or become a sort of half-and-half 
nondescript being, who, any one may see, is not in his right 
place.” 

At last, Helldorf and Schwarz had terminated their re- 
spective businesses, and the latter allowed himself to be per- 
suaded first of all to land in Tennessee, and visit the Ger- 
man settlers there. Selecting, therefore, the fastest of the 
nine steamers which on that day started up stream, viz. the 
Diana — they soon got their things on board, and were soon 
flying up the river between the really garden-like banks of 
the Mississippi, where plantation succeeded plantation, and 


174 


THE UNEXPECTED VISIT. 


wide boundless fields alternated picturesquely with buildings 
concealed by groves of oranges and pomegranates, until now 
and then the dark, morassy, and primeval forest interrupted 
the blooming landscape once more, and stretched its waving 
boughs even to the strand, to which it clung with its winding 
creepers, as though it would not be parted from its cradle, 
the old Mississippi. 


CHAPTER VI. 

THE UNEXPECTED VISIT. 

And how were the settlers getting on in the meantime ? 
Had they reconciled themselves to their new position ? Had 
they forgiven Dame Fortune for having cast their lot out in 
a woody desert ? 

No. They, of whom one would have least expected it, 
namely, the women — were the most patient ; the men, on the 
other hand, especially the Oldenburghers, grumbled dread- 
fully, and declared often enough that they were entitled to 
expect a better kind of life in return for the payment of so 
large a capital. ’Tis true that they could'no longer reproach 
the committee with pride or exclusiveness, for they lived in 
the midst of them, ate the same food, and laboured at the 
same tasks ; but that, in fact, was one of their chief griev- 
ances, that they really had no reasonable pretence for com- 
plaint. 

Under Wolfgang’s direction, and with his active help, 
sufficient shanties were erected to protect the whole of the 
settlers from wind and rain ; and, indeed, to afford tfiem as 
convenient a shelter as is usual in those parts. They had 
also begun to clear the land — that is, to fell the trees and to 
grub up the bushes, and the immediate necessaries of life for 
the present were provided for, Wolfgang having bought a 
sufficient quantity of flour and salt meat from a steamer which 
stopped at his place to take in wood, and having sent up these 
stores by his negro. 

What is it that they wanted, then ? 

Every thing ! How had the ideas which they had cher- 


THE UNEXPECTED VISIT. 


175 


ished in their old home been verified ? Where are those fer- 
tile plantations, where that superabundance of produce, that 
easy life of which they had dreamed ? Alas ! it had, indeed, 
been but a dream ! Such things look very different in reality. 
Those aboriginal woods which we cannot picture to ourselves 
grand and splendid enough, become an intolerable nuisance 
when we have to live in them, and to combat their gigantic 
vegetation. Every one hears and reads with pleasure of the 
romantic life of a hunter, who passes his nights in the open 
air, under the greenwood ; but it is any thing but romantic 
when the rain falls through that greenwood, and wets one to 
the skin. Thousands of such trifles there are, to which all, 
especially Europeans, must first get accustomed ; but that is 
not done in three weeks, which was the period of time that 
had elapsed since the passengers of the “ Hoffnung ” had 
taken possession of their land. Was it surprising, then, that 
they were not yet satisfied with their life, that they could not 
be satisfied ? 

They were occupied for the moment in splitting rails to 
fence in a large cattle-yard, and Wolfgang had gone off into 
the hills, accompanied by Siebert, senior, and Herbold (the 
former as treasurer, the latter as an adept in the business,) to 
purchase some horses and cows wherewith to commence cat- 
tle rearing. But, as this branch of rural economy is con- 
ducted very differently in the backwoods of the West, from 
the old settled States and Europe ; as the cattle are not tied 
up in sheds, but roam freely about in the woods, and when 
wanted, have first to be sought for and got together, such a 
piece of business is not done in a day, and Wolfgang told the 
settlers beforehand that they were not to alarm themselves, if 
he and his companions should stay away a week or even a 
fortnight, as they probably should bring the cattle with them, 
and as driving them would prove very tedious. 

They had been gone three days, and Von Schwanthal, 
who, since the time when Meier met him in the woods in 
such a state of alarm, had pretty well abandoned his shooting, 
was just engaged with Parson Hehrmann, Mr. Becher, and 
some of the Oldenburghers, in splitting a huge red beech, 
which, with combined efforts, they had felled on the previous 
day, when the tailor, who had been piling brush in the neigh- 
bourhood of a little thicket, suddenly came rushing towards 
them with good news depicted in his countenance, uttering 
exclamations, and making signs, while yet afar off. 


176 


THE UNEXPECTED VISIT. 


The men paused in their work, looking at him as he came 
running towards them. He arrived at last, almost out of 
breath, exclaiming — 

“ Mr. Yon Schwanthal — Mr. Von Schwanthal, get your 
gun ; there’s a whole ‘ herd’ of turkeys over yonder !” 

“Where?” the latter hastily asked, throwing down the 
axe, and jumping up in a great hurry. The old love of 
sport, which had only slumbered for a week or two, awoke 
in all its vigour. 

“ Here, close by, where we’re working — where the dead 
cow lies that couldn’t stand the climate !” 

“ Near the dead cow ?” asked Von Schwanthal, surprised. 

“Yes, it’s a fact, I assure you; but make haste !” ex- 
claimed the little tailor* himself spurred on to irrepressible 
excitement by the sight of the game. “You seem to think 
that they’ll wait till you come.” 

Von Schwanthal ran quickly to the shanty, which was not 
far distant, put a couple of dozen of cartridges in his game- 
pouch, seized the gun, and followed Meier’s active little form, 
which bounded over a fallen tree, lying in his way, with ga- 
zelle-like agility, and then dived into the woods. 

Siebert, junior, the shoemaker, brewer, and Schmidt, with 
some Oldenburghers and Alsatians, who also had been in 
the neighbourhood, drew back when they saw the game and 
heard the tailor’s resolve to fetch the hunter ; but now they 
made signs from a distance that the birds were still there, and 
exhorted the approaching men, by all kinds of telegraphic 
movements, to walk carefully, so as not to scare away the 
delicate roast. 

Von Schwanthal requested his companions — for the whole 
company had joined the sport — for Heaven’s sake to be quiet, 
and to remain where they were, whilst he crept forward by 
himself, in doing which he found the game-bag a very great 
incumbrance, to see if he could not get a shot right into the 
whole flock, (or herd, as the tailor called them,) and perhaps 
kill three or four at once. 

As said, so done ; he first laid aside the cumbersome 
pouch, and then crept on his knees and left arm, holding the 
fowling-piece in the right, over stems and roots towards the 
designated spot. 

One circumstance was unfortunate : there was a very 
disagreeable odour there, for the body of the dead cow had 


THE UNEXPECTED VISIT. 


177 


already begun to pass into putrefaction. Von Schwanthal 
wondered, too, what in the world the turkeys could be about 
in such a noxious neighbourhood ; but there was not much 
time left for reflection, he had to advance quickly, so that his 
booty might not escape ; and, sure enough, actually, yonder, 
on and beside the dead animal, there sat about twenty hens, 
large, strong birds, some of which were looking carefully 
round, with their long necks, and others — strange ! — were 
pecking at the carrion. 

“ Thou hast never read about that in any natural histo- 
ry !” thought Von Schwanthal to himself. “ Turkeys and 
carrion ! — wonderful !” But he did not waste the precious 
time in these hasty reflections, but slid, as fast as he could 
go over such rough ground, towards a thick cypress, from 
behind which he hoped to get a capital shot at the whole flock 
of turkeys. And, lo ! he actually succeeded to reach the 
wished-for position without being observed, or, at all events, 
without being heeded, although he made noise enough, and 
some of the birds must have heard him, for they separated 
themselves from the rest, and looked very attentively, with 
heads sagely inclined on one side, in the direction where he 
stood, hidden by the tree. 

But now the favourable moment appeared to him to have 
arrived to make sure of his booty ; without further delay, 
therefore, he raised the gun, levelled, and fired the charge of 
shot right into the midst of the flock. 

The turkeys took wing — rose higher and higher — then 
flew in circles round and round the place from whence they 
had been so suddenly and soroughly scared. But one of 
them, which had received several grains of shot, and just 
retained sufficient strength to raise himself to the lower bough 
of a neighbouring oak, settled there, flapped his wings once 
or twice, and then fell down again, from his elevated perch, 
dead. 

Von Schwanthal shook his head. The turkey fell very 
light for so heavy a bird. But his companions left him no 
time for reflection. 

“ Hurrah !” exclaimed Meier, as he sprang forward, and 
raised up one of the slain ; “ hurrah ! now we’ve got a roast ! 
— Oh, geminy ! what a stench there is here !” 

“ But that was a shot!” said the brewer. “Five at 
9 


178 


THE UNEXPECTED VISIT. 


once ! — and such creatures ! If one could get such a shot 
every day, I should go shooting myself.” 

Yon Schwanthal had lifted up the one which had fallen by 
its naked head, and weighed it in his hand. 

“ Remarkably light !” said he. 

“ Why, that bird has the head of an eagle !” exclaimed 
Becher, who had now also joined them. “ Why, that’s a 
singular creature !” 

“ But are they turkeys, after all ?” asked Siebert, junior. 

“ Well, what else should they be !” opined the shoemaker. 
“ They’re certainly not partridges !” 

“ But not turkeys, for all that,” said, with a laugh, Pastor 
Hehrmann, who had, in the meantime, examined them more 
narrowly. “ My dear M. Von Schwanthal, I am afraid that 
you have shot carrion vultures for turkeys !” 

“ Well, what next, I should like to know !” said the tailor ; 
who, as he had been the first to give tongue, felt his dignity 
much hurt by this remark. “ If those are not turkeys, you 
may call me * donkey !’ ” 

“ Then we must set about christening you afresh,” smiled 
Hehrmann ; “ for these are buzzards — and probably of that 
kind which are called the turkey-buzzard, from their resem- 
blance to the turkey. Don’t take hold of them, M. Von 
Schwanthal, you won’t be able to get rid of the smell !” 

“Yes,” declared the brewer, “they do stink — that’s a 
fact !” 

“ It struck me as very strange,” said Von Schwanthal, 
shaking his head, “directly I saw the creatures seated on 
the carrion. But they’re strikingly like turkeys ! — Good 
Heavens f ” 

As Von Schwanthal uttered this exclamation, he started 
back in surprise, and had, in fact, cause for wonder ; for 
before him, with the most amiable smile upon his benevo- 
lent countenance, stood no other than Dr. Normann ! he who, 
ever since the settlement had been in existence, had been 
abused and cursed a thousand times, by almost every body, 
and to whom the Oldenburghers, in particular, had vowed 
death, if he should ever come within their clutches ! — yes — 
whose fraud had even elicited abuse from the little tailor, 
who, although not in general maliciously disposed, yet had 
declared “ that he would pass a hot goose over the fellow’s 
skin, if he could catch him !” 


THE UNEXPECTED VISIT. 


179 


This Doctor Normann now stood before the astonished 
settlers, bowing and smiling, as though he had the best- 
founded claims to the gratitude of the emigrants ; and said to 
those next him, with the mast hearty expression of voice, 
whilst he held out his hand towards them — 

“ Well, how are you, my friends ? — all well and hearty ? 
— that’s the chief thing ! How d’ye do, Pastor Hehrmann? 
— and you, my dear M. Von Schwanthal ? Ah ! Mr. Meier 
and Mr. Schmidt — Mr. Siebert — all hearty ? Iam delighted 
— I am really delighted !” 

“ Sir,” said Hehrmann, who had collected himself first, 
“ it cannot be concealed from you that we are all a little sur- 
prised at seeing you here, after what has occurred !” 

“ You thought, perhaps, that I had run away from you !” 
said the doctor, laughing. “ No, no ; on the contrary, you 
ran off from me. The boat started half an hour earlier than 
the captain had told me, and ” 

“ To what are we to attribute the honour of this visit ?” 
asked Pastor Hehrmann, somewhat coldly. 

“ My dear Pastor,” said Normann, advancing towards 
him, looking him full in the face, “ I can guess the cause of 
your coolness — the land is not what both of us expected. 
But should I have returned, if I had cheated you ?” 

“ Well, hark ye,” said Schmidt, who had hitherto stood 
by in astonishment, “ we have no fault to find with the qua- 
lity of the land — that’s good enough ; but there’s not the 
least shadow of all the rest of what you talked about ! You 
must excuse me, but it was all humbug !” 

“ I really cannot understand you, doctor !” Becher inter- 
rupted the last speaker, who was getting rather excited ; 
“ how you can dare ” 

“ What’s the use of all this palaver with the fellow !” ex- 
claimed one of the Oldenburghers. “ Devil burn him ! he 
has sent us into the wilderness here, and now he shall see 
how it will fare with him, since he has been fool enough to 
follow us !” 

“Will you listen to me, or not?” cried Dr. Normann, 
starting back, and shoving his right hand under his waist- 
coat. “ Will you condemn a man without having heard 
hi m 2 — without allowing him to defend himself!” 

“ What is there to defend ?” exclaimed the tailor. “ The 
evil is done, and here we are in the midst of it !” 


180 


THE UNEXPECTED VISIT. 


“ Will you give me ten minutes’ quiet audience,” asked 
the doctor, “ and not interrupt me V 9 

“Speak on !” said Hehrmann. 

“ Well, I’ll convince you that you wrong me, if you for 
a moment consider me capable of deceiving you !” 

“ To the point, if you please !” said Becher. 

“ You shall not have long to wait,” the doctor continued. 
“ On the very same day on which you quilted Cincinnati, I 
followed another boat, the ‘ Buck-eye Belle,’ and went to 
New Orleans. It is true, that I had intended to have got out 
at the Big Hatchee first, but the captain would not land ex- 
pressly for a single passenger. In New Orleans, I of course 
immediately sought out the boat in which you came down 
here, and inquired after you ; but learnt, to my horror, from 
the pilot, whom I knew very well, the true state of affairs, 
and what the land in this neighbourhood was. The- pilot 
happened to have been hunting near this little river last 
year. 

“ At first, I refused to believe what he told me ; but he 
soon adduced such convincing proofs, that I was compelled 
to admit to myself that I had been imposed upon, and that you 
would take me for a false, deceitful person. I could not 
bear that ; at the same time, I could not conceal from myself 
that mere excuses were inadequate, that I must prove to you 
that 1 am an innocent and honest man. But, again, to do 
this it was necessary that I should recover compensation, as 
far as that is possible, for the damage suffered by you ; and 
it is on that account chiefly — and not only to clear myself of 
suspicion — that I am come hither.” 

“ But how can you ” 

“ Allow me, in the first place, to introduce a friend of 
mine, Mr. Trevor.” 

He pointed, at the same time, behind him, and the man 
alluded to, whose slim form, hitherto unnoticed by any body, 
was leaning against an oak, his hat pulled down rather low 
over his sunburnt forehead, now raised himself, and bowed 
politely to the people. 

“Mr. Trevor speaks German,” continued Dr. Normann, 
“ and has accompanied me in order to give evidence in New 
York (whither both of us are bound) of the state of things 
here — viz., as to how far and by what means you have been 
cheated by that rascally land-jobber. In a month’s time, I 


THE UNEXPECTED VISIT. 


181 


hope to be enabled to send you not only the full amount of 
the purchase money, but a considerable sum for damages 
besides !” 

“ Then the laws, or their administration, must be very 
different from all that I have heard !” replied Mr. Becher. 

“ Mr. Becher,” exclaimed Dr. Normann, while he placed 
his hand on his breast, “ why should I come back to you, if 
I had not the intention and prospect of making good the 
damage which I have brought upon you ? What other mo- 
tive could have impelled me to a place where I knew before- 
hand that I should (with reason) be ill received ?” 

Pastor Hehrman looked hard at the doctor ; for a moment 
the thought again flashed across his mind of the declaration 
to his daughter, which he had accidentally overheard ; but 
Normann, who had no idea that Hehrmann had heard a word 
of ifr, and well knew, or guessed, that Bertha would be silent 
on the subject of such a conversation, met the eye of the 
pastor firmly, and thus (although unknown to himself) al- 
most entirely effaced the quickly raised and passing suspi- 
cion of the other. 

“ And you really suppose that you will be able to make 
that person answerable for the fraud ?” asked Becher, still 
incredulous. 

“ I not only think so, but am sure of it,” said Dr. Nor- 
mann ; “ fortunately I have in my hands his undertaking in 
writing ; there are witnesses enough to it in New York, and 
if I bring testimony by this gentleman what the neighbour- 
hood here really is like, no advocate can get him off from his 
deserved punishment.” 

The emigrants, unacquainted with the administration of 
the law in the United States, really began to believe the 
words of the man who had enticed them thither, but who 
now defended himself with so ready a tongue — particularly 
as one circumstance told in his favour, viz., that some such 
object alone could have made his visit probable — for what 
possible benefit, thought they, could any further deceit be 
to him ? 

The men, therefore, became more and more friendly and 
confidential, and, before he had passed an hour beside them, 
their acquaintance seemed nearly re-established on its old 
footing of friendship. The honest folks could not, and 
would not, believe a fellow-countryman capable of such 


182 


THE UNEXPECTED VISIT. 


villany, for such treachery appeared impossible to their 
own hearts. 

One thing more remained to be done ; he had to be pre- 
sented to the women, and their prejudices had also to be 
removed ; Becher and Hehrmann undertook this office, and 
walked towards the houses with him and the strange gen- 
tleman, while Von Schwanthal with the others remained 
behind. 

The men had mechanically withdrawn themselves from 
the spot where the carrion was lying, to escape from the 
offensive smell ; but although the American could only with 
difficulty suppress a loud laugh when he caught sight of the 
slaughtered buzzards, and readily guessed how these useful 
creatures had met with a premature death, yet Normann, 
on the other hand, carefully avoided seeming so much as to 
notice the strange game. It was not his cue to raise* the 
slightest cloud of vexation on the brow of any one of the peo- 
ple, whom he had to make friends of for the present. 

Pastor Hehrmann presented the returned one to the 
women ; honest and just himself, he was loth to believe any 
one else capable of such villany, and therefore gladly gave ear 
to what the doctor now told him. And, although Bertha, at 
least, started and turned pale at the arrival of the certainly 
unexpected guest, yet, on the other hand, Normann’s beha- 
viour was so hearty and frank, that all willingly absolved 
him, and listened and gave credence to the explanation re- 
peated by Hehrmann. Within a few hours it seemed as if 
nothing unfriendly had ever occurred, as if the doctor had 
solely and merely acted so as to be deserving of all the set- 
tlers’ warmest thanks. They now only looked forward 
with pleasure to the return of Siebert and Herbold, in order 
that they, too, might be made acquainted with the good 
news ; and Mrs. Hehrmann, for her part, declared that it 
was quite a relief to her that that she was no longer obliged 
to consider Dr. Normann guilty of such a breach of friend- 
ship and good faith. 

The American was also treated with attention and hear- 
tiness by the whole of the settlers, and although the so- 
called Pennsylvania German, which he spoke, certainly 
sounded rather strange to their ears at first, and was often 
incomprehensible, yet they did their best to chat with him, 
so that he might not suffer too much ennui. 


THE UNEXPECTED VISIT. 


183 


But Mr. Trevor appeared to be particularly partial to the 
conversation of Miss Bertha, who spoke a little English, and 
he gave himself every possible pains to teach her the pure 
accent of such words as she did not pronounce or emphasize 
correctly. 

Dr. Normann, it is true, several times endeavoured to 
give him occupation elsewhere ; but he always returned to 
the young lady, who appeared to be pleased with his atten- 
tions, because she thereby hoped to escape a t6te-a-tete with 
Dr. Normann, of whom she had a complete dread, since the 
scene on the deck of the steamer. 

The doctor, in the evening, tried, as far as possible, to 
ascertain every thing which had occurred ; of course, he 
had to inquire into particulars, in order to be able to proceed 
right vigorously and effectually against that cheating land- 
shark.* At the same time, he managed to get at some 
general acquaintance with the state of the finances ; but he 
could only obtain the exact particulars from Siebert, senior, 
whose return he therefore resolved to await, before taking 
any decided step. 

On the following morning Normann wandered with his 
companion backwards and forwards in the woods, under the 
pretence of viewing the ground, in order to convict the New 
York swindler, and here the following dialogue occurred 
between these two worthies : — 

“ When, the devil, do you mean to be off, Normann ? 
What’s the use of frittering away our precious time here ?” 

“We can’t get away yet,” objected the doctor; “ how 
are we to get the girls to the river quickly enough to be safe 
from pursuit ?” 

“ Don’t talk such stuff,” said the American, with a 
laugh ; “ which of the Dutchmen is to follow us through the 
woods without losing himself directly, so that he won’t be 
able to find his own track again ? No, by Jove, that matter 
would not give me the least uneasiness : I vote for carrying 
off the girl, as soon as we can entice her a rifle-shot’s range 
from the shanties, and that, it is to be hoped, will be no diffi- 
cult matter ; I shall think of something that will raise her 
curiosity.” 

* Those persons, in the seaport towns, who make it their business to 
sell fraudulently bad land to the newly arrived, are usually styled land- 
sharks. 


184 


THE UNEXPECTED VISIT. 


“ She appears to please you V ’ 

“ She’s a glorious girl !” 

“ Turner, don’t forget our agreement !” said Normann, 
with a voice of grave exhortation, for a strange uncomforta- 
ble feeling now, for the first time, crept over him : the sus- 
picion that perhaps his accomplice might deceive him at last. 

“ Why, of course, I recollect our agreement,” laughed 
Turner ; “ but perhaps you’re jealous ? Ha, ha, ha ! that’s a 
good one ! Do you suppose then that if I had wanted a 
girl, I need have taken a journey of seven hundred miles 
down the river for her ? Nonsense ! It amuses me to get 
through the summer in this way, for in Cincinnati there is 
nothing more for me.” 

“ Had the Italian to pay his footing ? Hang it, man, I 
shan’t betray you, at all events ! — and yet I’ve put the ques- 
tion ten times to you already in vain !” 

“ Why do you put it at all ? — it must be all one to you,” 
growled Turner, angrily ; “ ’ tis always better not to talk too 
much about such things. But, I don’t care. Yes, I believe 
that he may probably remember me awhile. But the journey 
down stream came very opportunely ; I was only afraid that 
the cursed sailing boat would have overtaken us. Cohfound 
the fellows ! the wind blew remarkably fresh — a few hours 
more, and ” 

“ The Ohio makes too many bends,” said the worthy doctor, 
smiling ; “ a sailing-boat never can overtake a steamer on it ; 
but I really think it would be better for us to await the return 
of the others, who, as Pastor Hehrmann told us, are to bring 
horses and cattle with them. On horseback, the affair could 
be much more easily managed, for, after all, Turner, it would 
be rather too much of a good thing to carry the great girls 
fifteen miles through the woods.” 

“ We can take turns.” 

“ I thought we were to carry off both /” said the doctor, 
on the watch. 

Turner, who wished, at present to avoid every thing which 
might arouse the doctor's suspicions, immediately answered 
this question in the affirmative, and exclaimed, laughing — 
“ Well, of course, you are right — we will wait for the horses, 
unless a favourable opportunity should meanwhile occur to 
entice both girls towards the Mississippi, which certainly 
might be difficult.” 


THE UNEXPECTED VISIT. 


185 


“ If any body should find our boat yonder !” said the doc- 
tor, “ that would be a cursed go !” 

“ Indeed it would,” said Turner, musingly ; “ that would 
be unlucky, and might be attended with yet more unlucky 
consequences ; but I can scarcely think it likely ; Scipio, you 
know, is beside it, and 1 have hid him out-and-out well. 
Besides, it’s a German, too, they say, who lives at the mouth 
of the Big Hatchee, and that being so, we need scarcely ap- 
prehend discovery from that quarter.” 

“ Well, well, don’t think so ill of the Germans either,” 
said Normann, warningly : “ there are some among them 
who are not behind a thorough backwoodsman in tracking.” 

“ I’ll tell you what, Normann,” exclaimed Turner, ab- 
ruptly, as he stood still, and looked at the rivulet, on whose 
banks they just then were : “ I really believe that we can get 
the boat up here ; then the affair would be child’s play.” 

“ Not so safe as you suppose, Turner ; the Big Hatchee 
makes innumerable windings, and if they cut them off, they 
can get on faster on shore than we on water.” 

“ They must first know that we had gone by water ; the 
Big Hatchee has only risen since the day before yesterday — 
since the dreadful rains — and I don’t think that up to that 
time it would have borne even a canoe. I’ll tell you what, 
Normann, it may be a week or fortnight before they return 
with the horses, and to wait till then will make the matter 
too tedious ; besides, I haven’t time to wait so long ; therefore 
you remain here, say that I’m gone hunting, following a bear’s 
track, if you like, and meanwhile I’ll return quickly to the 
Mississippi. If the Hatchee is navigable, why, I’ll be back 
again by to-morrow evening, perhaps before, and then nothing 
more will interrupt our flight ; then cunning and force must 
help us ; if it is not navigable, why, I’ll bring up the boat as 
far as possible, and we may still, perhaps, save ourselves 
some miles of our land journey.” 

Normann willingly agreed to this plan, for it not only 
facilitated the execution of this shameful piece of scoundrel- 
ism, but also removed his accomplice so long from the neigh- 
bourhood of the object of their treachery. 

It required only a little farther confederacy, and, after a 
brief farewell, Turner threw the rifle over his shoulder, and 
soon disappeared in the bush ; while Normann returned slowly 
and musingly to the settlers. 

9 * 


186 


THE UNEXPECTED VISIT. 


The excuse for Turner’s absence was readily received by 
them, and Yon Schwanthal only lamented that he had not 
heard of it soon enough to accompany him. Normann, 
meanwhile, who, according to his own assurance, had also 
lived much in the woods, and consequently was acquainted 
with agriculture as well as the management of cattle, gave 
himself every conceivable pains to teach the men as well as 
the women a number of little contrivances, which those only 
who live in the woods find out by degrees. 

The fever, too, had attacked several of them, although 
the general state of health was, on the whole, still tolerable. 
Normann gave them excellent instructions for this, too, and 
showed them several medicinal herbs growing in the woods, 
whose uses he taught them. He behaved himself so well, 
took such endless trouble, and was so civil and polite to all, 
that even Bertha, towards whom, alone, he observed a rather 
distant behaviour, began to feel herself more at ease in his 
society, as she could not but think that he was cured of his 
love for her, and only wished to do every thing in his power 
to render those inconveniences into which the settlers had 
been plunged, unfortunately, by his means, as light as 
possible. 

He was particularly friendly and attentive' to Louisa, 
Bertha’s sister, and her junior by a few years, and two days 
thus passed with surprising rapidity. 

On the second evening after the conversation last detailed, 
the greater part of the settlers were seated close together 
before the principal dwelling, which, situated in the midst of 
several smaller dwelling-places, and subdivided by partitions, 
had to serve as a sleeping-place for most of them until they 
should have furnished the remaining houses. Several small 
fires, lighted in a circle, and fed with (jecayed wood, gave 
out a thick smoke, and served to keep off the otherwise too 
troublesome mosquitoes, and the doctor had just concluded a 
highly interesting story about the catching of wild horses on 
the western prairies, when the bushes rustled, and the Ame- 
rican stepped towards them. He was heavily laden, and laid 
down the young stag which he bore on his shoulders, at 
Bertha’s feet, but declared that he had not been able to over- 
take the bear whose tracks he had followed. 

Normann watched his looks, to guess whether the attempt 
had been successful or not, but the American was too wily to 


THE FLIGHT. 


187 


expose himself to the possibility of a discovery, if any one 
of the persons present should notice any sign, and therefore 
remained quite unconscious, answered Von SchwanthaPs 
questions in the most circumstantial manner, related a 
number of hunting anecdotes, laughed and joked, and alto- 
gether did as though there were no such person as Dr. Nor- 
mann in existence. 

It was not until they retired together to their sleeping- 
places, that he whispered lowly to the latter — 

“The boat lies scarcely five hundred yards from hence, 
safely hid ; and to-morrow they must be ours.” 


CHAPTER VII. 

• THE FLIGHT. 

Wolfgang, Herbold, and the elder Siebert, had gone off 
to the hills, in order to purchase from a farmer there, whom 
Wolfgang knew, such horses and cattle as they stood in need 
of for the moment, and which, if they should sell or leave 
that place within a short period, might either be driven on 
board of a steamer and so sent to the nearest town, or even 
be taken with them to their new place of abode. 

Their journey had been any thing but agreeable, for on 
the very first day it began to rain, and, during seventeen 
successive hours, it had never ceased from pouring. The 
swampy ground, damp at all times, became almost impassa- 
ble, and besides they were frightened by tempests, which 
passed over their heads, with bright flashes of lightning and 
loud peals of thunder, and that in such rapid succession that 
the sound of one peal had not died away before another 
already rendered them uneasy about their safety. 

Siebert was especially frightened, and although, at first, 
he endeavoured to conceal it, as well as he could, yet, in the 
course of the day, he was unable to keep up this disguise, 
for the thunder and lightning seemed to have no end ; he 
therefore candidly acknowledged his fears, and affirmed that 
it must be a presentiment that he should be struck by light- 
ning. 


188 


THE FLIGHT. 


Wolfgang laughed. “ No, my dear Mr. Siebert, do not 
make yourself uneasy ; the old belief, that lightning prefers 
to strike trees, and other high objects, is certainly well found- 
ed, and with us in the woods here, it always lights upon a 
tree ; indeed, I should like to know where else it is to go to ; 
it would be quite a feat for it to pass into the earth without 
striking one of them. No, I have heard of a good number 
of accidents, by falling trees or branches, under which men 
have been buried, or at least crippled, and cattle, more par- 
ticularly, are often thus destroyed, but I have never yet 
heard of a man having been struck by lightning, at least, 
not in the woods. In the hills, there are a kind of natural 
lightning conductors ; I mean the hickories or white walnut 
trees ; although the inconstant fluid not unfrequently has its 
joke with some old oak. But it prefers the former tree, and 
I have found them split down to the very roots. But if I am 
not mistaken, we are approaching the hills, the rushes be- 
coming thinner, and the soil is getting-undulating. Now we 
have the prospect of surprising my friend at home this eve- 
ning, and there we may rest ourselves for a day, to make up 
for our exertions.” 

Wolfgang had concluded correctly ; the last slope of the 
hills stretched to where they stood, and thenceforward their 
road became better, as they forsook the swampy hollows, and 
remained at the border of the higher land. 

The farm of Stevenson (the name of Wolfgang’s friend) 
lay, according to his calculation, about five miles further off ; 
but it was not until nearly evening that they reached the 
fence, and with it the boundary of a well-cultivated field of 
Indian corn, more than ten acres in extent, before which 
Her bold stood still, quite surprised and delighted. 

Wolfgang, however, did not leave him much time to look 
about him, but hurried his companions on towards the house, 
so as to enable them to dry themselves, and to get something 
warm, for he feared that the other two, not yet inured to the 
climate, might not escape with a mere cold, but perhaps get 
the fever or ague. 

Stevenson received them hospitably and heartily ; his 
daughters set about making some good, strong, warm coffee 
for them directly, while his wife got out every thing in the 
shape of clothes, either old or new, and ere long the wet and 
hungry wanderers were seated, dry and refreshed, before a 


THE FLIGHT. 


189 


warm fire, so that even Herbold confessed that he had not 
felt more comfortable for many a year past. 

Indeed, Stevenson’s family seemed to be a pattern of 
American domestic life ; — the interior of the house, simple, 
it is true, and even poor, was as bright and clean as one 
could have wished it ; the utensils shone and glittered 
again, and the mother with her two grown-up daughters, 
clad in the homespun gray of the western forests, looked 
like the ideal of a worthy matron, surrounded and supported 
by youth and beauty. The strangers soon felt happy in 
their neighbourhood, and it only required a few words 
of encouragement to make them move about with as much 
freedom and ease as though they were at home in their own 
houses. 

The storm which had so vexed them, and wetted them 
to the skin, like all other things in this world, had its bright 
side, too, for it had driven in the cattle towards the protecting 
dwellings of man, instead of wandering about the woods in 
all directions, as they otherwise would have been. Cows and 
horses stood in peaceful agreement, side by side, and licked 
the salt which a little fair-haired boy strewed for them, upon 
troughs hollowed out and fixed for the purpose, with an 
eagerness and enjoyment which told distinctly enough how 
long they had been deprived of it, and how fond they were 
of it. A small flock of sheep, with their leader, a stately 
ram, also approached, but the protector of the cows, a stout, 
broad-shouldered bull, did not seem particularly to relish his 
company, and lowered his sinewy neck towards him, and 
pawed the ground threateningly with his foot. The ram, on 
the other hand, who did not like to be looked upon as a 
coward before all his dames, and to forfeit the respect which 
he considered his due, also assumed a hostile attitde, bent 
down his head, and ran full tilt, carrying the war into the 
enemy’s territory, at his hundred-fold superior adversary, so 
that the latter was quite taken aback, and merely awaited the 
attack with horns pointed down. 

But the ram was too wide awake to let himself into a 
quarrel where he undoubtedly must come off second best, 
and therefore, when he found himself close before the bull, 
he turned suddenly off to the right, bringing a couple of 
cows between himself and his antagonist, called his own 
little flock together by a peculiar bleat, and in the next 


190 


THE FLIGHT. 


moment was on his way to the woods with it ; so that the 
deluded bull, when at last he threw up his powerful head 
in defiance, to see what had become of the threatened 
attack, saw no enemy in his vicinity, and could only ex- 
press his contempt by a loud, hollow bellow, and by a little 
sand which he scraped up and threw into the eyes of a couple 
of cows. 

Herbold had looked on at the whole game with much 
pleasure, and now turned to his friendly host with the ques- 
tion, whether sheep were advantageous and profitable stock 
in the backwoods. 

“ No,” said he, “ at least I have not found them so. The 
stock, of course, like the rest of our cattle, have to run about 
wild in the woods, and although the wolves rarely venture 
on a young calf, yet they persecute the sheep considerably ; 
it is, therefore, only possible to preserve a flock if one has a 
good ram beside it.” 

“ And do you really think that a ram can bid defiance 
to the wolves?” asked Herbold, surprised. 

“Yes; I not only think so, but am certain of it,” re- 
plied Stevenson ; “ they place themselves in a posture of 
defence, go round and round the flock, and constantly 
threaten the wolf with their attack, of which he is particu- 
larly afraid.” 

“ But when several wolves are together, as no doubt is 
often the case ?” 

“ The wolf is very cowardly,” continued the old farmer ; 
“ he seldom ventures on an open attack, and is fearful 
of resistance. I am firmly convinced that a single sheep 
could drive away the large black wolf of the woods — to say 
nothing of the little, gray, prairie wolves — if it would ad- 
vance resolutely upon him, and make a feigned attack or 
two. But, as sheep, after all, are but sheep, why, this is not 
often attempted ; they try to fly, and Mr. Wolf seizes them 
by the collar. But that is not the only thing which inter- 
feres with the raising of sheep, there are other circumstances 
with which we have to contend. In consequence of their 
running about in the woods unrestrained, their wool gets full 
of burrs, and it would be still worse were we to keep them 
in fields or fenced places, where the burrs are yet more 
abundant ; it is therefore out of the question, to wash the 
sheep before shearing them. That is the reason why, 


THE FLIGHT. 


191 


although there is pasture in abundance, we keep compara- 
tively few sheep, and even those few, we should do away 
with, if our wives were not obliged to use a little wool, to 
weave and to spin clothes for themselve and us.” 

“ Strange that wolves persecute sheep so every where !” 
said Herbold, with a sagacious shake of the head ; “ they are 
natural enemies, no doubt, and the sheep must be aware of 
it, and dread their worriers.” 

“Don’t suppose that,” observed Stevenson ; “strange to 
say, the thing is originally quite the reverse. I have expe- 
rienced it several times myself. When I have removed to 
an unsettled district, which, be it said in passing, has been 
several times the case, l have not lost a single sheep during 
the first few months, sometimes even during the whole first 
year, and that surprised me the more as I found every where 
in the neighbourhood frequent tracks of wolves. At a sub- 
sequent period, I was once accidentally witness to the cause 
of their being so strangely spared, and which had already 
been mentioned to me by various neighbours. I was stand- 
ing on the look-out for an old buck that had passed that way, 
and from the spot where I had hid myself, could overlook a 
little plain below me, where my flock, then consisting of but 
seven ewes and a ram, was pasturing. Suddenly a wolf 
broke out from a neighbouring thicket, and was about to pass 
across the open space. But he certainly must have fallen in 
with the sheep for the first time then, and they must have 
appeared very strange to him, for just as I thought that he 
would select one for his breakfast, and was on that account 
about to step forward to hinder him, he halted, scented them, 
advanced timidly a step nearer, and suddenly, when one of 
the ewes turned round towards him, fled, with rapid bounds, 
into the cover of the thicket. He was afraid of the creatures 
which were as yet unknown to him, and it was only in the 
course of time, perhaps when driven by pinching hnnger, 
that these wolves tasted the first mutton. Thenceforth, it is 
true, there was an end to safety ; the ravenous beasts of 
prey soon learned how timid and inoffensive that alarming- 
looking animal was, and how sweet its flesh, and from that 
time forward did much havoc among the peaceable wool- 
coats.” 

“But, as the wolf liked the taste of the flesh,” said Her- 


192 


THE FLIGHT. 


bold, “ so also might you rear them yourselves, for the sake 
of the meat.” 

“ We don’t like it much,” Stevenson replied ; “the fare 
of the backwoodsman is Johnny cake, or Indian coin bread, 
and pork, and on that he lives and thrives. We but rarely 
slaughter a bullock and cure the meat, for the sake of a 
change ; for it is dry eating, and deer and turkeys generally 
serve the turn.” 

“ Is there much game here ?” 

“Pretty well. He who knows where to seek for it can 
always find something, and need not come home empty hand- 
ed, for if there are no deer to be had, he can get squirrels.” 

“ Squirrels ?” asked Herbold, in astonishment. 

“Yes, yes, squirrels,” said the farmer, smiling; “when 
you’ve been awhile in the country, you’ll come to relish 
squirrels too ; they are very good eating, especially the gray 
ones.” 

“ But what do you shoot the squirrels with ? I see 
nothing but rifles here.” 

“ Well, what else should we shoot them with?” asked 
the other, surprised in his turn ; “ not with those smooth- 
bored shot-guns, that shoot away a handful of lead into the 
air, besides spoiling flesh and fur? No, indeed. We have 
small-bored rifles on purpose for such small game, and with 
these we can fetch down the agile leapers from out of the 
loftiest tree-tops, where indeed your shot-guns would not 
carry the charge at all.” 

“ Do your cattle come home regularly, then ?” 

“ Oh no ; sometimes a single herd will remain away for 
months, and pasture ten or twelve miles from home beside 
other water-courses, and then we have to go after them, seek 
them out, and salt them.” 

“ Salt them ?” exclaimed the German, astonished. 

“ You are surprised at that,” said Stevenson, with a 
smile ; “ but of course you are not yet acquainted with the 
management of cattle in the woods of the West. Well, I 
can give you at least some idea of it in a few words. 

“ Our chief wealth, if a poor devil like myself may be 
permitted to talk of wealth, consists in cattle — viz., horned 
cattle, horses, and hogs, for as to the sheep they are a mere 
trifle. But how is it possible that a man should keep large 
flocks and herds, who perhaps scarcely grows more corn 


THE FLIGHT. 


193 


than suffices to keep his own family in bread ? Stall-feed- 
ing is, therefore, out of the question, if, indeed, we had sheds. 
The woods, on the other hand, are full of the most valuable 
cattle food ; in spring and summer, the beautiful grass — in 
the fall, the pea-vine and wild oats — in winter, the sweet 
leaves of the reeds in the reed-brakes. It would be folly, 
with such abundance of food, to think of growing corn for 
cattle, for the hogs also have more in the shape of roots and 
acorns than they can get through. We, therefore, rear as 
much live stock as we can, and trust to Providence to 
feed it. 

“ But to prevent them from straying, we have a means 
which hardly ever fails of attaching them to the spot where 
they get it. I refer to salt. Horses, cows, and hogs, are all 
alike passionately fond of it, and to strew salt at certain 
periods on fixed places is almost sure to bring them back to 
those spots.” 

“ Don’t single heads of cattle sometimes stray ?” 

“ Oh, certainly ; sometimes small herds do so, and be- 
come wild, but that can’t be helped ; others grow up in their 
stead, and the loss is made up again.” 

“ Wild animals destroy many, too ; do they not ?” 

“ Many ! — no. The bear sometimes makes havoc among 
the hogs, but his hide must generally pay the damage ; and 
if the panther occasionally tears to pieces a calf or a foal, 
yet after all it does not amount to much ; others grow up.” 

“ According to our notions of cattle-breeding it w r ould 
signify a good deal if a panther should destroy a calf or a 
foal,” said Herbold, with a laugh, “ but I perceive the thing 
is carried on upon a larger scale here. You have many 
cattle ?” 

“ Pretty well,” replied the farmer, “ about two hundred 
head in all, counting cows and calves as one. But I am 
thinking of going westward, and want to sell them.” 

“ What, forsake your farm !” exclaimed the German, 
astonished. “ Why ? Is the land not good, or is the neigh- 
bourhood unhealthy ?” 

“ Oh, not for that ; the land is capital, and we have no 
cause to complain much of sickness ; a little ague, now and 
then ; but that arises from the neighbourhood of the swamps, 
and it doesn’t last long.” 

“ But why do you wish to remove, then ?” 


194 


THE FLIGHT. 


“ Well, I don’t exactly know, but as I have heard the 

land hereabouts is to be surveyed ” 

“ And that is your reason ? I should have thought that 
would have been acceptable to you.” 

“ As you like to take it, pleasant or unpleasant ; pleasant 
because one then gets to know whereabout to look for one’s 
own land, and where one may, here and there, have the 
chance of buying good pieces to add to it ; but unpleasant 
because I should have to pay for it now, and for the same 
money I could get just as good land further to the west, and 
much more of it, and perhaps also better cattle. Here I get 
at present a pretty good price for all that I have, and if a 
couple of years were only over one’s head, and the settle- 
ments in this neighbourhood so thick as to impede a man in 
his free movements ” 

“ Good gracious !” Herbold interrupted him ; “ why, you 
haven’t a single neighbour within nine miles’ distance, as you 
yourself just now admitted.” 

“ Yet the time is not so very distant,” continued Steven- 
son, without noticing the objection, “ when we may have 
towns upon towns along the margin of the swamp, and I had 
rather go out of the way of the people ; the air of towns 
doesn’t agree with me.” 

“ Well, Heaven be praised !” said the other, laughing, 
“ you haven’t much to complain of on that score ; the nearest 
town, as Wolfgang told me, is ten miles distant, and consists 
of five houses.” 

“ And I shouldn’t like any nearer,” said the farmer. 

“ There is another thing which I wished to ask you ; how, 
in the name of wonder, do you manage with the milch kine ? 
You must place them at all events under shelter, and feed 
them, otherwise you can get no milk.” 

“We can manage that much more simply,” was the re- 
ply ; “we drive home the calves when we find them in the 
woods, and the cows, of course, come with them. The cow 
is milked at the homestead, and afterwards driven out of the 
clearing. During the first night she does not like to go away, 
but she is driven by hunger to go at last, seeks her food, and 
comes home regularly to be milked, and to see her calf.” 

“ Certainly that is a convenient mode of keeping milking 
cows ; and the calf remains all day long in a shed?” 

“ Shed ! we don’t know such a word here. Whoever may 


THE FLIGHT. 


195 


happen to have a stallion may perhaps keep him in a log- 
house built on purpose, differing in nowise from our own 
ordinary dwellings, except that it has no boarded floor, nor 
chimney, but otherwise we don’t require those kind of build- 
ings.” 

“ Well, thus much I can see,” Herbold now expressed 
his opinion ; “ there is no great art in raising cattle here ; 
one has only to drive them out, and scarcely trouble oneself 
further about them.” 

“ There,” said Wolfgang, who had now joined them, and 
had heard the last remark, “ you fall into an error common 
with emigrants from Europe. They go from one extreme to 
the other, and believe that, because in their own country they 
have so much trouble with stall feeding, and are obliged to 
conduct every thing with so much care, therefore that here 
they have nothing further to do, for instance, than to drive 
out a breeding sow into the woods, in order to have a drove 
of some hundred hogs arrive some three or four years after. 
No, no ; one must not neglect cattle here either, but must 
look after them, else they get wild, and become worse than 
deer or rabbits.” 

“ I don’t know what Wolfgang means by extremes, or 
what extremes are, but in other respects he has hit it exactly. 
One has to drive about in the woods for many a long day to 
get the nreatures together, and when that is done, they never 
will remain where they are wanted. But you were saying 
that you wanted to buy some cows and horses ; if you do, 
you couldn’t have pitched upon a better time than just the 
present ; my best cows are here, and there is not one of the 
horses missing.” 

“ Certainly, we wish to buy both cattle and horses, 5 ’ said 
Siebert, who now also joined in the conversation ; “ that was 
just the cause of our coming hither; but in making our bar- 
gain we must rely implicitly upon Mr. Wolfgang and your- 
self, for ” 

“ Mr. Wolfgang understands the thing thoroughly,” the 
old American interrupted him, laughing ; “ we have transacted 
many a piece of business together. He and his wife — by- 
the-bye, Wolfgang, how is your wife ? she suffered much 
from the fever lately.” 

“ It is well with her,” said the young man, turning half 
aside ; “ she is dead.” 


196 


THE FLIGHT. 


“ Dead ! dear me ! and we never heard a word of it, so 
that we might ” 

Don’t press the subject,” said the young man, depre- 
catingly ; “ the distance between this and the river is great, 
how could you hear of it 1 Besides, these worthy people 
helped me kindly with the burial. But,” he continued, 
while he passed his hands lightly across his eyes, “ I think 
it is better for me, and for all of us, if we let alone the mel- 
ancholy past. We have business to attend to, and activity 
is the best preservative against sorrow.” 

“But your wife ” said Stevenson. 

“ Was an angel,” Wolfgang interrupted him, in a low 
voice, “ and I shall never, never forget her, so long as this 
poor heart beats ; still, do me the favour not to wake the old 
sorrow. I have, Heaven knows ! suffered enough already. 
— When are you going to clear out, Stevenson ?” 

The old man reached him his hand in silence, grasped 
heartily that which was offered him, and then changed his 
tone, in order not to sadden his friend yet more. 

“ It will be next year first,” said he, as he drew one of 
his large mastiffs towards him, and patted his head ; “ there 
are always on those occasions so many things to look after, 
that one hardly knows where to begin or when one has done, 
and as I have got to cross the Mississippi, why I intend to 
take my time, and to get done with it all at once. To go 
back such a distance for something forgotten would be too 
tedious. How many cattle will you have — a hundred per- 
haps 1 The more you can get at first, the more advantage- 
ous for you, for the more rapidly and the more numerously 
do they increase, and it costs you little or nothing.” 

“ That is very true,” Wolfgang now took up the dis- 
course ; “ if one is minded to stay in the place, or at all 
events in the neighbourhood where one is ; but I would by 
no means advise the gentlemen to do that. The soil is good, 
but the location is unhealthy, and it will be fortunate for 
them if they can stand it during the summer ; next fall they 
must seek out a healthier climate, and much cattle would 
only be an incumbrance to them. Where do you go to?” 

“ Into the Ozark Hills ; but why will you not at once 
quit this part of the country, if you are already firmly con- 
vinced that you will not remain here long ? I should go at 


THE FLIGHT. 


197 


once, for time here is money. Calculate merely the pro- 
duce in cattle that you would gain by it.” 

“ You are right,” Siebert now said ; “ but where are we 
to find a neighbourhood directly that would suit us, particu- 
larly as we are unacquainted with the country ? and then a 
removal with such a number of people is easier spoken of 
than executed.” 

“ And how have we worked at our place already !” sug- 
gested Herbold ; “ how many trees have we felled !” 

“ Well, well, that would be the least part of the busi- 
ness smiled Stevenson ; “ there can’t be so very many in 
three weeks ; besides, all that is not lost, it has been useful 
to you for practice, and cannot prove otherwise than bene- 
ficial hereafter. But I quite agree with Mr. Wolfgang. If 
you are not unanimous among yourselves whether to stay 
or go, as it almost seems to me is the case, why then only 
take some four or five milch kine and calves, so that you 
may have milk for the children and the sick, at all events 
three or four horses besides, and no hogs, they would only 
be a plague to you, and let that suffice for your beginning 
in cattle management.” 

Siebert and Herbold fully agreed with this, and with the 
assistance of Wolfgang and Stevenson selected such of the 
cows as appeared the best ; then chose three horses, small but 
sturdy ponies, such as are serviceable in the woods, and, on 
the fourth morning after their departure from home, they had 
concluded every thing with such good fortune, and so much 
more quickly than they had expected, that they were ready 
to think about their march back. But they first strolled, 
with old Stevenson, through all his fields and improvements, 
and Herbold especially was much astonished at a style of 
farming of which he had, up to that time, had no conception. 

The Indian corn field claimed his chief attention, for al- 
though the emigrants, on their journey by canal through 
Ohio, had already seen fields with rail fences, yet that had 
always been in the more settled districts, and the fields real- 
ly looked like fields. But here every thing was more in its 
primeval state, and although the fences had been put up du- 
rably and well, yet in the interior there stood almost as ma- 
ny stumps and large girdled trees as there were stalks of 
corn. It remained an inexplicable riddle to Herbold how 
any human being could plough among those stumps and 


198 


THE FLIGHT. 


roots, for such a field, containing at least ten German mor- 
gens, or about twenty English acres, could not be tilled with 
the spade ; yet the furrows seemed regular and straight. 
The plough unquestionably had done it, and Stevenson show- 
ed them one without wheels,* so as to allow the ploughman 
to draw it out before every root, to lift it out of the way of 
stumps of trees, and by pressing or easing it let it go shal- 
lower or deeper. 

The old American explained to them the culture of the 
Indian corn, which was very simple, and conducted them be- 
tween the rows of stalks, frequently from ten to twelve feet 
high, and which, with their heavy cobs, and drooping, dry 
silky little bushes, or flags, presented a stately, and to the 
eye of the husbandman, a most grateful appearance. 

The stalks stood, as is customary, upon little mounds or 
hillocks, quite four feet apart, so as to leave full play for the 
leaves ; and pumpkins or water-melons had been sown be- 
tween them, and throve amazingly, especially the former, 
which in some instances had reached an extraordinary size. 

“ What, in the name of Heaven, do you do with all these 
pumpkins ? ” asked Mr. Siebert, in astonishment, “ why, 
there are actually enough to victual a whole colony.” 

“ Pumpkins,” said Stevenson, “ are, properly speaking, 
one of the most useful things which a farmer can sow ; 
horses and cows eat them eagerly, hogs will let themselves 
be beaten to death for them, and they are one of the most 
healthy and nourishing articles of food for mankind which 
we possess here in Tennessee, or indeed throughout the whole 
west of America. 

“ For mankind, too ?” 

“ Yes, certainly ; but by the time that you have got 
your fields cleared you will have learned that yourselves. 
Pumpkins, boiled down fresh, make capital preserves, of 
course not so delicate as plums or peaches, and when dried, 
they yield an excellent winter vegetable, which I, at least, 
prefer to any other.” 

And do they grow only Indian corn in this neighbour- 
hood — no cotton, no tobacco ?” asked Mr. Siebert ; “ the 
climate is assuredly mild enough.” 


* The swing plough is not used in Germany, except in parts of Hol- 
stein and Friesland. — T r. 


THE FLIGHT. 


199 


“ Mild enough, certainly. In the states lying north of 
this, immense quantities of tobacco, and even of cotton, are 
raised, and consequently, those plants would thrive still bet- 
ter in this more southern Tennessee ; but for the culture of 
cotton, as well as of tobacco, a great number of hands are re- 
quired, and black han^s if possible ; slaves on the one hand, 
to get in the harvest — that is, pluck the cotton itself — on the 
other, to attend to the picking of the small tobacco worm. 
A farmer who is restricted to his own family cannot attempt 
to raise those sort of things, or at least can raise sufficient 
only for his own use. Else it is sure to be a failure, if the 
crop is not a total loss.” 

“ But how is it with cereals ? ” 

“ Why, those might be more practicable, and here and 
there they are cultivated with extraordinary success, but In- 
dian corn is better for cattle food,* and we always prefer it. 
Another inconvenience of these smaller grains is the bread ; 
we have no suitable mills for it, and on that account alone 
must content ourselves with Indian corn. In the eastern 
and northern states, it is, of course, somewhat different ; 
there they grow wheat and oats, and I am firmly convinced 
that in the whole course of your journey through New York 
and Ohio or Pennsylvania States, whichever way you may 
have come, you did not get any Indian corn bread, or set 
eyes upon it.” 

Siebert and Herbold confirmed this ; but Wolfgang had 
meanwhile busily occupied himeelf in tapping with his bent 
forefinger against several of the largest and ripest water- 
melons, to seek out the best of' them for eating, as they 
could not remain much longer, but must return to their set- 
tlement. 

All three accordingly followed his example, and now 
sought, heavily laden, the shadow of the house, there to en- 
joy the melons at their leisure. 

Mrs. Stevenson had meanwhile prepared an ample and 
excellent dinner, such a one as is only to be met with in 
the woods, so that the fresh comers, who besides had not been 
much used to dainties latterly, acknowledged with anima- 
tion that they had not made such a meal for a long time. 

* The worthy farmer had before said that they raised no fodder for 
cattle. The fact is, cattle get their living in the woods, but don’t get fat 
there. — T r. 


200 


THE FLIGHT. 


Game, turkey, and fat pork formed the “ pieces de resist- 
ance,” the heavy artillery as it were, and preserved pump- 
kin, beans, sweet potatoes, honey, and milk the by-meats. 
All was prepared simply but well, and the men did justice 
to it. But after the meal, Wolfgang again urged their de- 
parture, and although Herbold (who began to like the place 
very much) would have willingly passed at least that day 
there, yet he gave way to the wish of their conductor. 
Mounting the horses, therefore, which they had bargained 
for, they bade a hearty farewell to the family of the worthy 
old Stevenson, and commenced their homeward journey, 
driving the cows and calves before them. Stevenson also 
promised shortly to look them up in their new settlement, 
perhaps within that very week, to make the acquaintance of 
his new neighbours, as he called them. 

But, although they were now mounted, they scarcely 
advanced more quickly than they had done before on foot, 
for to drive cows through the woods is a task which, as the 
Americans say, teaches even Methodists to swear, and which 
certainly offers many difficulties to the tyro. Besides this, 
Mr. Siebert knew little or nothing about riding, and had 
trouble enough to keep his seat, owing to the many leaps 
which the horse was obliged to make over prostrate 
stems of trees or swampy spots. He had, therefore, to keep 
in the centre, while Wolfgang and Herbold rode on either 
wing, in order, not only to make the cattle move on by shout- 
ing and swinging their hats, but also to drive back, from 
thicket and swamp, into the prescribed track, the stragglers, 
which were constantly straying. 

We will not stop to inquire how often, while thus en- 
gaged, Siebert and Herbold were dragged from their horses 
by dangling creeping plants and vines, or lost their seats by 
sudden shying, or stumbling, or leaping of their beasts, and 
kissed the earth any way but gently. They progressed very 
slowly with their charge, and it was near sunset of the sec- 
ond day before they reached the neighbourhood of the settle- 
ment, and heard the strokes of the workmen’s axe at regular 
intervals. 

#*#*#* 

But it is high time that we should return to the settle- 
ment once more, where those two villains were steadily pro- 


THE FLIGHT. 


201 


gressing towards the execution of their criminal plan. But 
as Normann wished to await the return of Siebert, senior, 
he and Turner assisted the emigrants with their work, 
partly to pass the time, but partly, also, in order to restore 
their former friendly footing more and more. The settlers 
had thus just concluded two new fenced inclosures, wherein 
the expected horses and cows were to be kept, for they could 
not yet make up their minds that the cattle should be allowed 
to run at liberty in the woods all the winter. 

Even Hehrmann, who, as he could not forget the last 
scene on board the steamer, had carefully observed Nor- 
mann the first day or two, appeared to allow his suspicions 
to be lulled, when he noted his open and candid behaviour. 
One could plainly bee in every one of the doctor’s move- 
ments how much afflicted he was that he should have been 
the cause of a company of Germans — of people who were 
his friends — being cheated and defrauded, and how he now 
strained every nerve to repair, as far as lay in his power, the 
evil, although it had not been caused by his own act. 
He had, on that very day even, assured Hehrmann and 
Becher, that not only did he not entertain the slightest doubt, 
but that, indeed, he was firmly convinced, that the rascally 
land-jobber could be successfully brought to account. 

The settlers had succeeded, with the assistance of the 
doctor and the American, in laying “ the worm,” as the 
lower row of rails laid in zig-zag is called, and to erect the 
whole fence faultlessly, so that Mr. Becher, when he sur- 
veyed the successful work with self-satisfied look, observed, 
smilingly, that now the drovers might arrive as soon as they 
pleased with their beasts, and that Wolfgang would stare to 
see such a workmanlike performance, as he had before haz- 
arded an opinion that probably he should have to pull the 
fence down again, if it were not firm enough. 

“Wolfgang!” said Dr. Normann, who now heard his 
name for the first time, inasmuch as hitherto, when the absent 
had been spoken of, only Siebert and Herbold had been 
named. “ Wolfgang ! — the name sounds quite German ; does 
the gentleman belong to your association ?” 

“ He is a German settler,” Becher ansv/ered, “ to whom 
that cordwood beside the Mississippi belongs, which you 
probably noticed piled up.” 

“ Has he also lately come over from Germany ?” asked 
10 


202 


THE FLIGHT. 


Normann, and that with more interest than might have been 
expected about a stranger. 

“ No, he formerly lived in Arkansas/’ was the answer, 
“ and probably has been some years here in Tennessee.” 

“ A singular case,” said Trevor (or Turner) in the Penn- 
sylvanian dialect — “ a very singular case, that a backwoods- 
man should clear out eastward ; an American never would 
have done that.” 

Normann was silent, and cast his eyes on the ground ; but 
an attentive observer might have noticed that within a few 
minutes he had changed countenance very much, and was 
actually quite pale. The settlers, however, were too much 
taken up with their new fence, to heed him, and it was only 
when Normann, after exchanging some words with Turner 
in a lone tone, was preparing to leave for the houses, that 
Hehrmann noticed the change in his features, and exclaimed 
jocularly — 

“ There you see, doctor, you have over-exerted yourself ; 
this kind of work affects persons who are not accustomed to 
it, over much ; you look deadly pale.” 

“ The doctor explained it away, by attributing it to a 
headache, but affirmed that a short walk would do him good, 
and, taking Turner’s arm, he walked with him towards the 
houses which were near at hand.” 

“We must go,” he exclaimed, as soon as they had got 
out of ear-shot of the labourers — “ we must be off ; we have 
not a moment to spare, for any instant may bring back those 
men.” 

“What men ?” asked the American surprised. 

“ Those who are gone to fetch the cattle and horses,” said 
Normann, looking suspiciously round. 

“ Well, who the devil is to understand you ? first, you 
plague and insist upon waiting until this Liebert, or Siebert, 
as he is called, shall come back, and talk of nothing but 
riding off, so as to get away more conveniently, and now it 
almost seems as though you were afraid of the arrival of 
those whom you were so eagerly waiting for. What ails 
you ?” 

“ You shall learn all,” replied the doctor — “ I have no 
need to keep back a secret of that description from you , for 
a tenth part of what I know of you, would sentence you to 
the gallows in any Christian country. But now is not the 


THE FLIGHT. 


203 


time for story-telling — on the road — this evening — to-morrow 
morning — any time but now ; let us, for the present, manage 
to persuade the girls to take a walk. But this much I can 
tell you, I have well-founded reasons for avoiding the sight 
of this Wolfgang. When I relate all to you, by-and-by, 
this evening, you will allow that 1 have good grounds. Shall 
we be off?” 

“ Why, certainly,” said Turner, laughing, “ you are the 
principal character in this business ; I have only come with 
you to oblige you, so that it is only proper that I should not 
leave you in the lurch when danger threatens you. Away, 
then, within the next hour if you like — indeed, , the sooner 
the more agreeable to me, although I should have liked to 
have waited till dusk, because it could be accomplished then 
with less danger. Well, perhaps we may talk the girls over 
to accompany us, while it is yet light, as far as where the 
nigger with the boat lies hid, but then we must certainly gag 
them until we get to the Mississippi, otherwise their cries 
might attract some uncalled-for audience, and as no one goes 
into the woods here without a rifle, perhaps even bring a 
ball about our ears.” 

“ And our place of concealment ?” 

a We shall reach it this very evening,” replied Turner, 
“ it is a famous little spot, and you will be delighted with it.” 

“ But you have never told me yet where it is,” said the 
doctor suspiciously ; “ why all this secrecy ?” 

“ You’ll know it soon enough. But what is to be done 
with the girls afterwards ?” 

“ Oh, let us drop all further plans for the present,” said 
Normann, “ we have plenty of time for that when we have 
nothing else to do ; now for the smooth side outwards. In 
fact, I think we have won the confidence of the young ladies 
to such a degree that they will go with us without much 
difficulty, if we ask them to accompany us for a walk.” 

“ No fear ; I know a capital lie, which seldom fails to 
raise the curiosity of a young lady of sensibility.” 

“ And that is ” 

“ Halloo, there,” said the American, jocularly, “ does it 
produce its effect upon you ? Well, as far as that goes, also, 
you must allow me to keep my own counsel. What will 
you bet, now, that it does not succeed ?” 

“ It would be against my own interest to bet against it,” 


204 


THE FLIGHT. 


smiled the doctor, “ inasmuch as I am interested in its suc- 
cess ; so let us to work, for the ground begins to burn under 
my feet, and may next hour find us in possession of two angels 

that might well excite a sultan’s envy !” 

* * * * * * * 

Bertha and Louisa had just helped their mother to wash 
up and put away the plates and dishes, and were busied 
making up summer clothes for the men, in which labour 
Meier played a prominent part, he having been relieved for 
a few days from hard work out of doors, and left within to 
cut out. Turner and Normann walked in ; made their 
obeisance to the ladies, and sat themselves down on a couple 
of chunks of wood, sawed off for the purpose, and which did 
duty for chairs. But although the • weather was really 
tempting, and the doctor began several times to say how 
wrong it was of the young ladies to shut themselves up in the 
house, and to devote themselves so entirely to work, while they 
ought to be enjoying the fresh healthy air, and thereby 
keeping off fever, yet Bertha excused herself on account of 
the quantity of work which had to be done, and declared that 
she had so much to do that she could hardly think of a walk, 
however short, for three days to come. Her mother confirm- 
ed this, and Normann, in despair, whittled about on the log, 
whereon he was sitting, with his penknife. Turner then took 
up the word, and led the conversation to the cattle, to the cows 
and calves, which they were expecting, and probably would 
cause a little change in their monotonous life. 

“ Oh, yes,” 'said Bertha, “ I look forward with pleasure to 
the little calves, there is something so pretty and confiding 
in a creature that one has brought up oneself, and so made 
familiar to one ; hitherto we have had no living thing upon 
the farm, except the chickens, which Mr. Wolfgang was kind 
enough to bring with him.” 

Again, that name ! Normann drew a deep breath, and 
looked up anxiously to his comrade, as though he would re- 
mind him of the promised assistance. 

“ Oh, yes,” continued Turner, without taking any notice 
of this movement ; “ I am very fond of tame animals myself ; 
formerly, for instance, I once brought up a young bear, and 
I must confess that it pained me very much when I had to 
part with him afterwards, when he grew too big.” 


THE FLIGHT. 


205 


“ Bears are dangerous animals — are they not V ’ asked 
Louisa. 

“ Bears ! oh, no !” said Turner, as he brought his right 
knee over the left one, and clasped it there with both hands — 
“ oh, no, not to mankind, but very much so to young game ; 
they persecute young deer a good deal. ,, 

Normann looked across at Turner, in amazement, for he 
knew very well that what he was stating was a falsehood, and 
consequently that he must have some object in it. Turner, 
however, retained his former attitude, and looked straight 
before him. 

“ It is a melancholy reflection,” said Bertha, after a short 
pause, “ how, among animals, one is always seeking the de- 
struction of others ; mankind must have learnt it from them. 
The poor little deer-calf, how frightened it must be when it 
sees such a formidable enemy approaching !” 

“ Oh, that enemy, notwithstanding its strength, is the least 
dangerous !” said Turner, with a smile ; “his attack is, at 
least, straightforward and open ; but the poor little creature 
has much worse enemies, who better know how to employ 
cunning to get it into their power, and are thereby more for- 
midable and less easily avoided ; these last are, especially, 
the panther and the wolf. Indeed, every thing nearly per- 
secutes the young deer : — wild-cats, ferrets, even eagles and 
carrion-vultures pounce down on them, kill them, and eat 
them on the spot.” 

“ Oh, that is dreadful !” exclaimed Louisa ; “ but why 
doesn’t the dam hide them better ?” 

Normann got up, and walked uneasily towards the door ; 
Turner cast a smiling look after him, and continued : — “ So 
she does ; and it is seldom that the buzzards, especially, can 
find out such a little creature, yet it does sometimes occur — 
1 had an example to-day.” 

“ But, Turner, it is getting late,” said Normann, who 
could no longer control his impatience and his fears — “ con- 
sider that we must send off the letter to-day, and that very 
soon, for the messenger will have no time when the cattle 
arrive and have to be attended to.” 

“ There’s time enough,” replied Turner, quite quietly ; 
“ I have reconsidered the matter, and think we had better not 
send till to-morrow morning.” 


206 


THE FLIGHT. 


Normann turned away, to conceal the emotions which he 
could hardly suppress. 

“ You have seen that to-day, Mr. Trevor ?” asked Bertha 
and Louisa, laying down their work, and looking up anx- 
iously at the man ; “ and the buzzards found and killed such 
a poor little creature ?” 

“ They haven’t killed it yet,” replied Turner ; “ but will 
probably do so as soon as it becomes dusk, they are always 
most ravenous then, and generally save their prey until that 
time.” 

“ But I don’t understand you,” said Bertha, surprised ; 
“ why do you suppose that they will destroy a deer-calf? — 
can they observe it in their flight ? It is not possible !” 

“ No, certainly not,” said Turner, with a smile ; “ but 
just after dinner, to-day, when I was taking a stroll in the 
woods, I saw five or six of these birds ; at first I thought that 
a panther might perhaps have destroyed some animal or 
other, and went to see what it could be ; but found a pretty 
little deer-calf, only a few days old, which lay there alone 
and forsaken. Most likely its mother had been torn to pieces 
by a panther, and the poor little thing would have to starve 
to death there unless the vultures should free it from its 
misery.” 

“ But why didn’t you bring it with you, then ?” said 
Mrs. Hehrmann, stepping towards them; “good gracious! 
why it would be shocking if the poor creature should lie like 
that, helpless and unprotected.” 

“ Oh, how could you be so cruel as to leave it !” ex- 
claimed Bertha. 

“ Is it far from here ?” asked Louisa. “ If, as you say, 
the vultures don’t eat their prey until evening, perhaps it 
may still be living.” 

“ Oh, if you would but fetch it!” asked Bertha, 

“ My dear young lady,” said the American, “ the poor 
thing cannot be very well transported here, unless it were 
fed first where it lies. I took it up and stroked it ; but it 
was so weak that it was hardly able to move. Men’s hands 
are but rough instruments for handling such a weakly 
creature.” 

“You said that it was but a few hundred yards from 
this?” asked Bertha, once more. 

“ It is not a rifle-shot off,” said the stranger. 


THE FLIGHT. 


207 


“ Oh, mother !” begged Louisa. 

“ Go, children — go,” said Mrs. Hehrmann, quickly ; “ go 
and try to get the dear little thing home alive ; your father 
will be particularly pleased ; he has long wished for some 
such tame thing.” 

“ Oh, that is capital,” exclaimed Louisa, jumping up for 
her bonnet and shawl ; “ but we must take some milk with 
us to strengthen our little charge.” 

^ “ Alas ! if the buzzards should have got it,” whispered 
Bertha, sadly, “ I should be so sorry !” 

“ I should scarcely think they have,” said Turner, taking 
the milk-jug, which she had fetched, out of her hand ; “ it is 
but a short time since I was there, and the cowardly birds do 
not venture very readily upon any thing while living.” 

“ Have we got enough milk ?” asked Louisa. 

“I should think so,” replied Bertha. 

There was fully milk enough to have filled three full- 
grown stags. 

But Normann, who had regained new* life at the turn 
which the conversation had latterly taken, and could have 
willingly embraced the American, so grateful was he, now 
expressed himself ready, with the ladies’ permission, to take 
part in the expedition of rescue, and all four were in the next 
minute on their road towards the woods. 

But scarcely had they left the houses, and entered upon 
the bush, before the cracking of whips, and hallooing of 
voices, was heard in the distance, and the children of the 
settlement came rushing towards the houses, and announced, 
in delight, that “ the cows were coming along, and the 
calves too.” 

Universal activity now prevailed, and all ran confusedly 
hither and thither, for this was an epoch in their farming life. 
This was the first stock, which was to make them wealthy 
and comfortable. All streamed by, not only to assist in 
driving them into the fenced yards destined for them, but 
also to see them, to admire them, and — to criticise them. 
But the cows, rendered shy by the crowding upon them of so 
great a number of persons, began to trip about timidly, and 
to low ; and Wolfgang exhorted the people to stand back, 
and not to make such a heathenish noise ; but they paid no 
attention, nor did they obey his warnings, until one of the 
cows, a fine handsome animal, with lofty and pointed horns, 


208 


THE FLIGHT. 


sprang right among them, and, naturally meeting with little 
resistance, disappeared in the next moment in the woods. 

The shoemaker and the brewer happened to be just stand- 
ing on the spot where she broke through, and the latter, upon 
the sudden charge of the excited animal, threw himself 
against the former with such force as to knock him right 
through a sassafras bush into the totally decayed stem of a 
tree, out of which he had to be got by the united efforts of 
two sturdy Oldenburghers. But if the settlers had laughed 
at the half-buried shoemaker, their merriment was yet further 
increased, when they discovered Meier in the boughs of a 
stunted oak, in which he must have climbed with indescriba- 
ble activity and speed, when the first movement of the horned 
cattle was perceptible, and when the attention of every body 
else was directed towards them. 

Herbold, with irrepressible zeal, followed immediately, 
full gallop, after the cow ; but Wolfgang, who well knew 
that that was almost an impracticable task in the thick under- 
wood, was acquainted with a surer and much more conven- 
ient mode of bringing back the cow of her own accord : he 
cut off the calf’s retreat, so that it could not follow its mother, 
and then drove it after the rest, which now, by the combined 
exertions of all, especially by those of the Oldenburghers, 
had just reached the entrance of the fence, and they soon 
saw all the cattle, with the exception of the runaway cow, 
safely within fence and rail. 

The cows and calves were to remain together during the 
first night, but after that the former were to be let out, and 
thus the American mode of treatment be followed. 

Shortly afterwards poor Herbold returned, tired and 
weary, and, as Wolfgang had anticipated, without the cow ; 
but Wolfgang comforted him (for he was annoyed about it) by 
the assurance that the mother would not leave her calf in the 
lurch, but would come back to it, most probably on the same 
evening, or at all events in the course of the night. The 
result showed that he had spoken truly, for the cow came 
within a few hours to the fence which held her young one 
enclosed, and lowed and ran round it until she was admitted 
too. 

It was not until the men had entered the house, and were 
about to take some refreshment, that Hehrmann thought of 
making his friends acquainted with Dr. Normann’s arrival. 


I 


THE FLIGHT. 


209 


Siebert dropped the fork, which he had just taken up, and 
cried — 

“ What ! has that fellow the impudence to show his pale 
hang-dog face among us ?” 

Hehrmann pacified him, and explained, in few words, 
why Dr. Normann had sought them out again, and that he 
hoped not only to recover the purchase-money for them, but 
also considerable damages. 

“ My good Mr. Hehrmann,” said Wolfgang, “the gen- 
tleman must have some other object, otherwise he would not 
have followed you. If he is not himself really the vendor 
of this land — which, however, I strongly suspect he is, — yet 
he can never hope to recover, in this manner, even a cent of 
the money which has once been thus expended. He appears 
to me, moreover, from all that I have hitherto heard of him, 
to be much too knowing really to believe any thing of the 
kind himself.” 

“ But he told us that the laws ” said Hehrmann. 

“ Why those very laws ” — Wolfgang interrupted him — 
“ do but too much assist those who wish to act unjustly. It 
is true that if the debt be small, under fifty dollars, and you 
have a formal note for it, then it may be recovered readily 
enough ; but such debts as exceed fifty dollars, and more 
especially claims of such a description as require fraud to be 
established, are very difficult, if not impossible of prosecu- 
tion.” 

“ Look you, my dear Wolfgang, how much you wrong 
him; foreseeing that, he has brought a friend of his, who 
happened to come up the river with him. He minutely in- 
spected and surveyed all with his own eyes, and is to give 
testimony for us in New York.” 

“ Moonshine, — moonshine !” said Wolfgang, contemp- 
tuously ; “ that is, at most, a mere excuse and cover, to in- 
sure themselves a friendly reception here : I don’t know of 
what other use it could be. That such testimony would be 
of no use to him in New York, Dr. Normann certainly knows 
full well. Is his companion a German ? 

“ No, an American ; but he speaks a little German, 
though with a very foreign pronunciation.” 

“ Where is he now, then ?” asked Siebert ; “ and where 
are the young ladies ? I have not seen them yet since our 
arrival.” 


10* 


210 


THE FLIGHT. 


“ The American had seen a young deer in the woods,” — 
Mrs. Hehrmann now took up the word, — “and as we feared 
that it might be starved, or attacked by the buzzards, the 
children have taken a jug of milk, and have gone with Dr. 
Normann and Mr. Trevor to fetch it.” 

Wolfgang laid down his knife and fork, and looked up, 
alarmed, and almost astonished, towards the speaker. 

“ The American found a deer-calf in the woods, which, 
as he feared, would starve!” he repeated, as though he 
were in doubt whether he could have rightly understood the 
words. 

“ Yes,” replied Mrs. Hehrmann, “ and which, he said, 
was but a day or two old ; and, in order that the bears might 
not devour it, or the buzzards, which had already congrega- 
ted about it, get it, he went at once.” 

“ A deer-calf — day or two old — bears devour it — buz- 
zards get it!” repeated Wolfgang, astonished. 

“ Why, yes ; and he added, besides, that he must fetch it 
before evening, for that it was then that the buzzards became 
most ravenous and most bold, and when they attacked their 
prey.” 

“ Gentlemen,” said Wolfgang, who had suddenly become 
very earnest, “ this American, whom I do not yet know, has 
either taken the liberty to play off a joke upon the young 
ladies, your daughters, or — some scoundrelism has been car- 
ried out.” 

“ For God’s sake, what do you mean ?” cried Mrs. Hehr- 
mann, becoming deadly pale, and the men sprang from their 
seats in alarm. 

“ What makes you think that ?” said Becher ; “ is not 
all which the man said plausible ?” 

“ Plausible ! Yes,” said Wolfgang,” “ but a lie ! Where, 
I should like to know, do you find, at this season, a deer-calf 
which may be expected to starve — they are all of them, even 
those which were dropped latest, several months old ; he, 
therefore, cannot have found that in the woods. Then, again, 
no bear eats a young deer-calf — that’s a fable ; and the buz- 
zard, which, besides, troubles itself little about any thing 
which has life, goes to roost as other birds do, like the tur- 
keys and the prairie hens, at dusk. All that is pure inven- 
tion to entice your daughters from home ; and my advice is 


THE FLIGHT. 


211 


instantly to break up in pursuit — perhaps we may yet over- 
take them !” 

“ But where to seek them ?” asked Hehrmann, tearing 
his double-barrelled gun from the wall : “ Where to find 
them ? Which of us can follow their track V 9 

“ I know what part of the woods they are gone to,” said 
Schmidt, who had just entered. “ I had left a cross-cut saw 
there this morning, and just went to fetch it.” 

“ Show us the way, then,” said Wolfgang, looking at the 
priming of his own rifle, which, prior to his journey, he had 
left behind him in Hehrmann’s house. 

“ Oh God — my children !” cried Mrs. Hehrmann, dis- 
consolately. “ Oh ! let me go with you ! — let me go with 
you !” 

“ Don’t be terrified, my dear,” said the worthy Hehr- 
mann, consolingly, to her ; who knows whether our fears 
are well founded ? — we have at once supposed the worst. 
It’s quite possible that they have only gone into the woods to 
look for berries, and that we may meet with them close by 
here.” 

“ I believe, altogether, that you think too badly of Dr. 
Normann,” said Siebert, senior ; I don’t think him capable 
of such villany.” 

“ You are right !” exclaimed Hehrmann, who probably 
thought of the last conversation of Normann with his daugh- 
ter, but would not torture his wife yet more by betiayingtoo 
great an anxiety on his part. “ You are right ; still, we will 
go after them ; perhaps, too, we may fall in with the run- 
away cow.” 

“ But she — is in the opposite direction,” the shoemaker 
was just going'to blurt out, when he was stopped by an em- 
phatic dig in the ribs from Becher ; and when he turned 
angrily towards the latter, he made such desperately quieting 
faces that the shoemaker was quite taken aback, and held his 
peace without concluding the sentence. 

Wolfgang, Hehrmann, and Yon Schwanthal, mounted the 
horses to go in search of the poor girls ; and the remaining 
settlers, with very few exceptions, followed on foot, to cross 
the woods in all directions, and, if possible, to get on their 
track. Schmidt strode on manfully before them towards the 
spot where he had seen the two men with Hehrmann’s daugh- 
ters for the last time. 


212 


THE FLIGHT. 


“If vve can but find the poor little thing!” said Louisa, 
timidly, when they had entered right into the woods, and were 
gliding forward, in Indian file, along a narrow track. 

“ Is it much further ?”’ asked Bertha, shyly, who began to 
feel ill at ease in the dark shadows of the woods in the com- 
pany of the two men, neither of whom had spoken a word 
since they lost sight of the houses. 

“ No, Miss Bertha,” answered the American, with a smile, 
“ we are nearly there. Do you see yonder regularly formed 
circular hillocks? — the poor little creature lies between 
them.” 

“ Hark !” said Louisa ; “ I hear shouting and the crack- 
ing of whips — they’ve certainly arrived with the cows and 
calves. Oh, if we had but waited a little longer !” 

“ We can be back within a quarter of an hour,” said the 
American, cheerfully, to her. “ According to my reckon- 
ing, we must be almost dt the place.” 

“ But the ground is so damp here,” said Bertha, “and 
mother has particularly cautioned us against getting wet 
feet — and you too, doctor.” 

The doctor was. silent, and cast an anxious uneasy glance 
towards his comrade. Bertha looked up in astonishment at 
the men, and now first observed in their whole behaviour 
something strange and unfamiliar — and, like a dash of cold 
through heart and marrow, the idea of treachery arose in her 
mind. 

“We will turn back,” said she, suppressing her fears 
with all the power of which her strong heart was capable. 
“We will turn back — Mr. Trevor must have missed the di- 
rection ; no deer-calf could lie hereabouts, the ground is wet 
and swampy.” 

“Where lies the boat?” whispered Normann to his com- 
rade ; “ are we far from it ?” 

“ Over yonder — scarce a hundred yards from this.” 

“ But what shall we do with the girls ?” 

“ We must bind them,” said Turner. “ Scipio will come 
running with the ropes, as soon as I give the signal.” 

Bertha had seized the hand of her sister convulsively — 
and the latter looked up to her timidly, but still without any 
foreboding of what was in agitation. 

“ Why do the men whisper so together ?” she asked her 
sister. “ Cannot they find the spot ? But, Bertha, what’s 


THE FLIGHT. 


213 


\ 


the matter — why, you are as pale as a corpse ! Oh, doc- 
tor !” 

She turned round towards the doctor, but in the next 
moment she herself stood in need of the support of her sister ; 
she started back with a loud cry of horror, and hid her face 
in her hands. 

Before her, a cocked pistol in his hand, stood the American, 
and, with a look which raised fears of the worst, in a threat- 
ening whisper, hissed out these words — 

“ Dare to scream ! — dare to call for help ! — and one of 
you falls a corpse — the other her murderess !” 

“ Doctor !” begged Louisa, in a low voice — “ Oh ! can 
you not protect us from this dreadful man?” 

But, without even bestowing a look upon the petitioner, 
the doctor exclaimed — “Give the signal, Turner! — we dare 
not lose a second more; if Wolfgang should learn under what 
pretext we have led the women into the woods at this season, 
his suspicions will be roused, and in tracking he equals an 
Indian.” 

Turner raised his fingers to his lips, and gave a low 
whistle ; immediately after, the bushes on the river’s edge, 
which was not many yards distant, rustled, and Bertha herself 
could scarcely suppress a cry of terror, when the bright yel- 
low, devilish countenance of the mulatto, with greedy, glowing 
eyes, and grinning teeth, dived out of the thicket, and hurried 
towards them, carrying a bundle of cords in his hand. 

“ What are you going to do ?” cried Bertha, who was the 
first to regain her presence of mind ; “ what is your purpose ? 
Is this the return, doctor, that you make for my father’s 
friendly reception ? Let us go, and I pledge you my word 
that I will not say a word of what has hitherto passed. — 
Back, I say ! don’t touch that child.” 

The American had seized Louisa, who was paralyzed 
with fear, and was about to bind her hands, when Bertha 
rushed upon him. But without heeding the interruption, he 
flung her with powerful grasp towards the mulatto, who made 
fast her limbs with fearful rapidity, while Turner exclaimed 
threateningly — 

“Speak but another word, and I’ll drive the steel into 
your sister’s heart ! By every thing sacred, I am not joking! 
You are prisoners, and must give way to your fate.” 

“ Help, help !” screamed Bertha, contemning every threat, 


214 


THE FLIGHT. 


for she did not fear death, if it could save her from shame. 
But in the next moment the broad palm of the mulatto was 
lying on her lips, and he exclaimed, with a grin — 

“ Must put little gag in the little mouth — make too much 
row ! ” 

Bertha soon found herself incapable of further resistance, 
and the same thing took place with Louisa, although less was to 
be feared from her, as she was restrained by the threat of death 
to her sister, from attempting any thing for her own safety. 

“ Now, away,” said Turner, lifting Bertha in his arms. 
“ Come, doctor, you take the lighter one, and, now, Scipio, 
carry the rifles yonder, and let us see how you can row. 
You know the reward which awaits you.” 

He sprang forward to the banks of the small river, and 
down towards the concealed boat ; the doctor, who appeared 
to be momentarily moved by fear, and perhaps, also, by re- 
pentance, stood for some seconds, as if petrified, but when 
he saw Turner disappearing beneath the steep river bank, 
with his own booty, the former passion was once more 
aroused ; he raised the other girl, who looked up to him be- 
seechingly, in his arms, and with rapid strides followed his 
confederate. 

A few minutes sufficed to get afloat the light and rapid 
skiff, and, with a low chuckle of triumph, the American 
pushed from shore. He sat in the stern of the boat himself, 
and steered ; beside him, her back leaning against the cross- 
bench, with hands and feet tied, and her mouth wrapped round 
with a silk handkerchief, lay Bertha. The mulatto sat on 
the middle seat, with the starboard (or right) oar, and on the 
further seat, Dr. Normann, with the larboard (or left) oar, 
and quite forward, with her little head on the roughly dragged- 
in rope, lay Louisa, also bound and gagged, and the clear 
tears coursed down the poor girl’s cheeks, which were as 
cold and as white as marble. 

The sharply-built boat shot forward like an arrow in the 
somewhat swollen stream, and Turner exclaimed, laughing — 

“ That was capitally executed ; now, for a couple of 
hours’ start, and the devil himself shall not overtake us.” 

“ But we require that, too,” whispered the mulatto ; “ the 
little river is very crooked — runs first north, then south, in all 
directions. If they know that we are off, they only want a 


THE FLIGHT. 


215 


good horse, and then might shoot us one after another out of 
the boat.” 

“ That’s true, Scipio,” said the American, “ but it can’t 
be helped. But, hang it all ! the Germans won’t be such sharp 
trackers, either — Normann, don’t make such an infernal row 
with your oar as to discover our place of departure so soon ! — 
it would be horrid, if they should — that’s a fact !” 

“ Why, at the worst, we might always save ourselves,” 
said Scipio, “ though we should have to leave the pretty little 
bits of woman-flesh in the lurch.” 

“ But, look, for God’s sake, at our course, again ! — due 
east, slick away from the Mississippi !” 

“ That’s the great bend,” said Scipio, “ we shall take an 
hour to get round it, and yet ’tis but a couple of hundred 
yards across.” 

“ Stretch out, you two !” cried Turner ; “ we must make 
haste, and leave this little water-course, with its high, uncom- 
fortable, overgrown banks, behind us. I shan’t feel myself 
in safety, till we’re on the other side of the Mississippi.” 

The men, thenceforward, observed a deep silence ; 
Bertha endeavoured with all her power to raise herself, and 
looked up entreatingly at the dark man, who sat beside her, 
with the helm in his hand ; but he, guessing well enough 
that she wanted to speak to him, shook his head, smiling, and 
whisperpd in a low voice — 

“No, my dear, you mustn’t make any use of your pretty 
lips yet — the danger is too great, here ; besides, begging, or 
praying, or offering ransom, or whatever else those tricks and 
evasions may be called, would be unavailing. You are 
mine /” — and he hissed the word out so softly, between his 
teeth, that it escaped even Normann’s ear : “ thou art mine, 
and no devil shall tear thee from me !” 

The boat was now approaching the spot where the curve 
of the stream terminated, and where it almost resumed its 
former course. At this point, by reason of the great bend 
which it made to the right, the rivulet had washed away 
nearly the whole of the lower part of the left bank, so that 
the upper stratum of earth, in many places, overhung like a 
roof, and could only have been retained in its position by the 
roots of willows, and swamp maples. 

The boat, too, had been drifted by the current towards 
the outer side of the bend in the river, and Turner was just 


21G 


THE FLIGHT. 


about to keep her head more towards mid-channel, in order 
to avoid the danger of getting foul of, and, perhaps, over- 
turned by the tree stems which projected from the vicinity of 
the bank, when the mulatto suddenly held up his hand, and 
ceased rowing ; Dr. Normann instantly followed his exam- 
ple, and the former stood up from his seat, and listened, hold- 
ing his hands in the form of a funnel to his ear in the direc- 
tion of the left bank. 

“ Do you hear any thing ?” asked Turner. 

The mulatto made a sign with his hand to be quiet, but 
remained in his former attitude. 

The boat still shot quickly forward, although no longer 
urged on by the oars. 

“ What’s the matter ?” asked Normann, timidly. 

“ They are coming !” the mulatto suddenly whispered, 
and pointing, alarmed, upwards. 

A glad ray of hope passed across the countenances of the 
unhappy captives. There was some sign of salvation from 
their awful danger ; and Bertha cast a look of joyful grati- 
tude towards the blue canopy of heaven. 

But Turner, who, quickly as thought, perceived their 
only chance of remaining undiscovered, acted as promptly. 

He could no longer expect to get away on the opposite 
side, for he heard the approaching hoofs himself ; and there, 
he must have fallen under the bullets of his enemies before 
he could climb up the steep bank. On the other hand, on 
the side whence the pursuers were approaching, the shore 
was bushy, and as already mentioned, overhanging. With- 
out betraying the fears which crept over himself therefore, 
by so much as the twinkling of an eyelash — even with the 
same cold smile upon his thin lips — he let the boat fall off 
into the current. 

In the next second, he glided between and among some 
willow shoots which grew close to the water’s edge, and were 
overhung by thick bushes, and there the boat lay, held by 
the strong arm of the mulatto, still and motionless. 

At the same moment, some dry branches broke off above, 
and the leaves rustled — a rider bounded forward, heedless of 
the closely interwoven branches, and severing them with a 
sharp hunting-knife only when they actually stopped his pas- 
sage, nearly to the edge of the bank, and, bending forward, 
gazed up and down the stream. 


THE FXIGHT. 


217 


“ Do you see nothing, Wolfgang?” the anxious voice of 
Pastor Hehrmann was now heard to ask — “ can you discover 
nothing of my children ?” 

Bertha, hearing the voice of her father close above her, 
made a desperate exertion of strength to free her mouth, 
but Turner held her with an iron grasp, so that she was 
hindered from making any movement whatever ; whilst 
Normann applied the same restraint to the younger sister, 
and in addition, pointed a knife at her breast. Although not 
a syllable escaped him in this action, yet his eyes betrayed 
the devil that was lurking within. 

“ Nothing ! — nothing at all to be seen or heard !” said 
young Wolfgang, with a sigh. “ And yet it appeared to me, 
just before we reached the bank, as though I heard the sound 
of an oar ; but I must have deceived myself.” 

A contemptuous smile played round the corners of Tur- 
ner’s mouth. 

“ And are you quite certain that they had a boat above 
here ?” asked Herbold’s voice. 

“ I can pledge my neck for it ! Wolfgang answered 
him ; “the tracks were plain enough to be seen.” 

“ Perhaps they are not so far yet,” said Becher, who had 
now also arrived. “ As you say yourself, the river here- 
abouts makes great bends, all of which we have cut off, and 
I should think, therefore ” 

“ Perhaps — but perhaps not, Wolfgang interrupted him. 
“ But we must consider this, above all things — that in case 
they should have passed, we are wasting valuable time in a 
most inexcusable manner, for we give them more and more 
the start ; and if they once reach the Mississippi, little hope 
remains of our overtaking them.” 

The mulatto, in the boat below nodded his head, with a 
grin that disclosed two rows of dazzling white teeth. 

“ How would it be if we were to gallop along the banks 
of the water-course?” asked Mr. Hehrmann. 

“ Yes, if we could do that,” said Wolfgang ; “then they 
should not escape from us — I know that; but scarce half a 
mile from this, a deep slough empties itself into this little 
river, and that with such steep banks, that riding through it 
is out of the question ; those on foot might make the attempt, 
for, if I am not mistaken, there are some cypresses fallen 
across it, which permit of a passage.” 


218 


THE FLIGHT. 


Turner looked interrogatively at the mulatto, who con- 
firmed the statement by a silent nod. 

“ But how are we to get on, then ?” demanded Hehr- 
mann, anxiously. 

“ We must ride back almost the same way that we came 
with the wagon,” said Wolfgang. “ ’Tis true that it is 
several miles round, but it can’t be helped.” 

“ Suppose we were to station men along the banks ? 
Then they couldn’t slip by, anyhow.” 

“ If we had more horses, and if it were daylight, that 
might do ; but as it is, I fear that we should be dividing our 
forces too much. Besides, we could do little in a place like 
this before us, for example — for the scoundrels would know 
how to cover themselves by the bodies of their unhappy vic- 
tims, so that we should not dare to fire upon them. My ad- 
vice is, for all of us to start for the mouth of the Big Hatchee, 
and we horsemen as fast as our beasts will carry us. The 
Big Hatchee, too is very narrow there, and if we put our- 
selves in ambush, and draw a couple of ropes across the 
stream, they must fall into our hands.” 

“ But shall you be able to find the route in the dark ?” 
asked Herbold, anxiously. 

“ Yes, with the help of Providence,” said the young man. 
“ I am no longer a novice in the woods, and have spent rr*any 
a long night abroad among them. But now, let’s away. 
The men afoot may keep close to the river; from this part 
forward, the Hatchee does not take so many turnings ; and 
although the road is rough and bad to travel, yet, on the 
other hand, you cannot lose your way in the woods. But if 
you should discover the boat, still, for God’s sake, do not fire 
into it, lest you should -hit one of the poor girls, but keep it 
in your eye till you come to some shallow place, and perhaps 
may cut off their retreat. Now, gentlemen, give your horses 
the spurs, and away !” 

Wolfgang accompanied the word with the deed, and im- 
mediately afterwards, the bushes crackled again, and the 
horsemen disappeared in the woods. But the other settlers 
sprang and ran along the bank, over prostrate stems, through 
reed-brakes and thickets, keeping the rivulet in their eyes at 
first as much as possible ; but they soon discovered with what 
difficulties they had to contend, especially in the approach- 
ing darkness, and were obliged to confine themselves merely 


THE FLIGHT. 


219 


to keeping in its vicinity, so as to be able to recognize its 
banks. They thought that they should be thus enabled to 
reach the mouth of the Big Hatchee before the boat. All, 
however, swore solemnly, each time they got entangled in 
some wild vine — every time they stumbled over the trunk or 
branch of a tree — when a thorn tore their faces or hands — 
that they would exemplarily punish the scoundrels who had 
so vilely abused their confidence. 

However, when the chase had lasted an hour or so, many 
a one among them would have willingly turned back ; but, 
then, the very idea of returning alone by the road which 
they had come was dreadful. No ; to go forward was 
preferable to that, with the hope of being party to the cap- 
ture of a couple of traitors who, according to Meier’s sen- 
tence, deserved to be pricked to death with red-hot needles. 

Turner continued under cover of the willows for about a 
quarter of an hour more, until some time after the last of the 
pursuers had quitted the bank of the stream, fearing some 
spy might have been left behind ; at last, however, further 
delay was attended with just as much danger as actual dis- 
covery, for the horsemen would thereby get too much the 
start of them ; and the American knew but too well that he 
should be a lost man, if his flight into the Mississippi were 
cut off. 

It was not that alone, however, which urged the scoundrel 
to reach the shores of that mighty stream half an hour, at 
least, before the pursuers ; but he told his comrades nothing 
about that — indeed, he spoke not a word, but pushed the 
bushes gently and carefully aside, so that the boat could glide 
out between them ; made signs to the mulatto, which must 
have been intelligible to the latter, to muffle the oars, so as 
to prevent the noise of the tholes, and the next moment the 
slim-built boat was gliding down close under the shadow of 
the left bank, and that with such extraordinary rapidity that 
it appeared to mock all further pursuit. 

But what, meanwhile, were the feelings of the poor, un- 
happy girls, thus torn from the arms of their parents, in the 
power of rude and desperate scoundrels, after having heard 
their father’s voice close over them ; after having seen salva- 
tion before their eyes, and yet tried in vain to make known 
their presence by a word, by a sound. Alas! they saw 


220 


THE MOUTH OF THE BIG HATCHED. 


every hope of being restored to their own people, of being 
rescued from the violence of these traitors disappear. 

But, no ; there yet remained one hope — they had heard 
Wolfgang’s voice ; they had heard the sound of the horses’ 
hoofs, as they galloped off, and knew that they were hurry- 
ing towards the mouth of the little river to meet the ruffians 
there ; it was yet possible that they might arrive first, for 
there must exist danger, or the mulatto would not have 
strained his sinews until his heavy breathing became more 
and more audible, more and more distinct, and betrayed the 
zeal with which he worked. 

This was the single gleam of hope which fell upon the 
horrid night of misery and despair which they suffered ; and 
they could only pray to the Almighty that he would give 
wings to the footsteps of their people, and bring them in time 
to their rescue. 


CHAPTER Ylll. 

THE MOUTH OF THE BIG HATCHEE. 

Werner was sitting upon the narrow gallery which sur- 
rounded the boiler-deck of the Diana,* and Schwarz had 
taken his seat beside him, on a green varnished camp-stool, 
which he bent back as far as he could, in order to be 
enabled to plant his feet at the same time firmly against the 
nearest pillar. But the scenery of the Mississippi had ma- 
terially changed since they had quitted the more southern 
climate of Louisiana. Those splendid, wide-spread planta- 
tions which pressed back the old forest far, far, into the blue 
distance, and from whose well-fenced fields the feather-like 
sugar-canes or the stubborn cotton-plants had hitherto met 
their gaze on the boundless plains on every side, were gone. 
And with them had disappeared those comfortably arranged 
planters’ dwellings, embosomed in flowers, and orange and 

* The boiler-deck, in American river steamers, is the space forward 
of the cabin, on the lower deck, between the two chimneys which pass 
up tl rough it, and top over the hurricane deck. 


THE MOUTH OF THE BIG HATCHEE. 


221 


pomegranate-trees ; gone were the tulip and fig-trees ; gone 
the dam on the water’s edge, behind which numerous flocks 
had grazed, and upon which, now and then, the heads and 
broad-brimmed straw-hats of dark-eyed Creoles had been 
visible, who, reining in their ponies for awhile, had stopped 
to admire the speed of the steamer that dashed past them. 
The little showily-painted boats, with their gaudy flags, 
which, lower down, had enlivened the prospect, were no longer 
to be seen, and the forest, the tall, mighty, unconquered forest, 
overran the land, to the margin of the steep and crumbling 
shore, and often even beyond it, out into the eddying foaming 
flood. It was only here and there that, in some nook of the 
dark and silent woods, there stood the shanty of some solitary 
cordwood-cutter, around which a regular clearing was but 
rarely to be seen, and that, perhaps, scarcely fenced in ; but, 
instead, high piles of cordwood, often several hundred yards 
in extent, testified to the industry of the labourer working 
there in solitude, and who was but rarely linked to a world 
from which he seemed to have fled, by some steamer stopping 
here at distant intervals for wood. 

“ But how can any one think of settling in such a melan- 
choly, desolate place ?” said Werner, breaking silence, at 
last, after a long pause, just as the Diana was heaving up 
the waves from her paddles towards the western shore, till 
they almost washed the threshold of a hut standing near — 
“ the surrounding swamps must poison the air.” 

“Certainly,” opined Helldorf, itr \X is a melancholy life 
they lead who dwell here ; but they chiefly view it as means 
to an end, and therefore put up with it for a year or two, or 
even for half-a-dozen years.” 

“And for what end?” asked Werner. 

“ To earn enough money to enable them to settle in a 
healthier district, and to buy some little property with what 
they earn here.” 

“ But why don’t the people go to such a spot at once, 
when land can be had every where so readily, as you say ; why 
do they risk having a sickly body when the ‘ far West’ lies 
open to them, only waiting for the plough ?” 

“ And there are reasons for that too,” said Schwarz. 
“ You, no doubt, remember that I have related to you, with 
how little a man may begin life in the woods ; but that little 
he must have, else he has to contend with too many and too 


222 


THE MOUTH OF THE BIG HATCHEE. 


painful obstacles. I can, were I to go now, with an axe and 
a rifle into the woods, found a home for myself ; I can chop 
trees for my log-house ; manage to subsist awhile on dried 
venison ;* raise my dwelling with the assistance of my neigh- 
bours, and make a couple of acres fit for tillage ; that is, I 
fell the smaller trees which are standing upon it and girdle 
the rest.” 

“ Girdle ?” 

“ Yes ; they call it girdling, when they chop out the bark 
in a ring, for a hand’s breadth or so, round a tree, and 
w r hich is chiefly practised with very thick trees ; j* then 
grub up the worst roots ; and now I have got my land what 
Americans call, fit for ploughing. But where is the plough ? 
There is no money to buy it, and I must borrow it, as well 
as a horse to draw it. Neighbours will certainly do that, 
and willingly, too. They assist the settler with all their 
power, and not unfrequently make the greatest sacrifices for 
him. But that has not got me out of my difficulties, for now 
I want seed to sow my field ; I want a hoe to earth up the 
growing stalks of Indian corn ; I have to plough again from 
time to time ; I require cooking utensils, — chisels — augers, 
— nails. I haven’t even a hand-mill to grind the borrowed 
Indian corn, but must trouble my neighbour for that, too. 
To-day I want a chain, — to-morrow an iron wedge, — the next 
day this, — the day after, that, and it does not cease ; there is 
no end of borrowing ; so that the neighbours, let them be the 
most good-natured souls in the world, yet at last must lose 
patience, and shun the person W'ho merely comes upon their 
firm to borrow, first one thing and then another, in order 
that they may not be compelled to give him a refusal. 

“ All that can be met by a small but reasonably applied 
capital. When one is in a position to procure the most 
necessary things, there is no fear afterwards ; the circum- 
stances of the farmer improve, although slowly perhaps, yet 
surely, from year to year, and he may constantly look for - 

* A settler calculating on this would stand a chance of being starved 
— Tr. 

t Girdling is a bad and slovenly practice, as the girdled trees, when 
the rest are cleared away from around them, are very liable to be blown 
down, and thus endanger men and animals; again, the wood gets so very 
hard, that it is much more difficult to cut into lengths for logging and 
burning, when it is blown down. — T r. 


THE MOUTH OF THE BIG HATCHEE. 


223 


ward, for himself and his family, to a future free from care. 
But, to expend the little capital in a really reasonable man- 
ner, that is the stumbling-block over which most emigrants, 
or rather immigrants, fall. They frequently come over to 
America with not inconsiderable property, but then generally 
suppose — especially if they have much money — that they 
can buy the whole world, and allow themselves to be drawn 
into heedless speculations, of which, as they are ignorant of 
the country and the language, they understand nothing, and 
into which they are, for the most part, enticed by designing 
knaves, who are on the look-out for such prey. They after- 
wards, when it is too late, find out how the swindler, who 
now laughs at them for their stupidity, was merely intent on 
appropriating to himself their good money, whilst he was 
making seductive representations of the quickly-to-be-ac- 
quired riches ; and the more difficult for them does it subse- 
quently become, when they are thrown back upon their per- 
sonal resources, to begin what, to a certain extent, is a new 
course of life, and a very unaccustomed and hard course, 
too. 

“ Those who come over with small sums have the ad- 
vantage, at least in this, that from the time of their leaving 
home, forward, they have not been in a position to form such 
great pretensions, and therefore, when they have lost that 
little, they are more easily reconciled to the idea of begin- 
ning afresh.” 

“ You seem to assume indisputably, and as a matter of 
course,” said Werner, laughing, “ that emigrants must really 
first lose all that they have brought with them !” 

“ Certainly,” Schwarz replied, drily ; “ for it happens at 
least ninety-three times out of a hundred, and the remaining 
seven you will surely allow me to class as exceptions. But 
experience will show you the truth of what I am telling you, 
when you shall have been a little longer in the country. 
Nearly all the Germans, who have got on here, have come 
over poor ; and if you should see two persons arrive, the 
one with a thousand dollars, the other without a thousand 
pfennings,* I will wager any thing that the poor man shall 
be the first of the two to become wealthy, or at all events 
independent.” 

* A pfenning is German money, value -Jjth of a penny. — T r. 


224 


THE MOUTH OF THE BIG IIATCHEE. 


“ According to that doctrine, money would be of no ad- 
vantage, then,” said Werner, shaking his head. 

“ Of the greatest ,” Schwarz replied ; “ but he who pos- 
sesses it must know how to keep it back. Take my word 
for it, my dear Werner, that if a man sets foot in this country 
with a hundred dollars, and lays them out immediately, they 
are worth nothing to him ; but, if he wears them sewed up 
round his body for three or four years, or if he buries them, 
he will discover that at the end of that period he possesses 
in them a little treasure, with which he can commence a 
new and promising mode of life, in a great many different 
ways.” 

“ But the idea of burying money ! It would surely be 
better to deposit it in some bank.” 

“ Yes, if you want to get rid of it. The devil trust the 
banks ; to-day they pay silver for their rags — to-morrow 
they don’t even give you half the amount for them. No, no ; 
the banks may be all very well for those people who are 
accurately acquainted with their business and circumstances, 
and at least have the means of knowing when they risk 
something, and when not. But let the newly-arrived emi- 
grant, for Heaven’s sake, abstain from throwing his good 
money into these maws of speculation ; else he may have to 
rue his imprudence when it is too late.” 

“ That throws us back again to my old position,” said 
Werner; “if individuals are really so threatened by dan- 
gers on all sides, as you tell me, it must surely be best to 
begin in large societies or colonies, wherein the interests 
of all the members can be confided to experienced persons.” 

“ In order to be cheated in company,” said Schwarz, 
with a laugh. “ Say no more about your unlucky colonies ; 
they never come to a good end, unless the people are influ- 
enced by a stern fanatical despotism, acting upon them by 
means of superstition and religious excitement. Such com- 
munities, it is true, are to be found, and some among them 
there are, in this country, which may be classed with 
the most blooming and the richest of our settlements ; but 
Heaven preserve us from a life, where mind as well body is 
bound in fetters which become tighter and more galling 
every day. No ; we have not come to America for that ; 
we want to enjoy freedom, the greatest blessing which this 
splendid country possesses ; but a colony would just be the 


THE MOUTH OF THE BIG HATCHEE. 


225 


greatest and most insuperable hindrance. But I will tell 
you why, from the very nature of the thing, no German co- 
lony, unless under the condition just alluded to, — religious 
tyranny, — can exist. The different stages of refinement in 
which people are found in our blessed Germany, are the 
chief cause. Let them begin with the best intentions of con- 
cord and public spirit, — let their will be ever so good, — yet 
in the long run they don’t agree among themselves ; unin- 
tentionally there arise various little cliques, not exactly of 
those who are of similar opinions, but of similar education ; 
for he who formerly occupied himself with literature and the 
fine arts, will always, let him set to work as hard as he 
pleases, like to devote his hours of leisure not only to chat 
about cattle and merely mechanical matters, but will also 
like to converse about something which shall occupy his 
mind, and, in some degree, recompense him for the now 
merely material life. But generally speaking, the less edu- 
cated man feels himself hurt by this ; for as he takes no in- 
terest in such conversations himself, he can seldom compre- 
hend how others can do so. 

“A feeling, unknown perhaps to himself, awakes within 
him. He thinks himself neglected, and considers those men 
proud who are only mentally his superiors. From this mo- 
ment forward all their steps are sharply watched, and it does 
not remain unnoticed that, as their limbs will not imme- 
diately adapt themselves to the unaccustomed occupation, 
the hard country work, they do less work than the rest. A 
breach has arisen in their friendly relations which becomes 
wider every day. The old mischievous saying, ‘ All are 
equal here in America,’ comes into use more and more fre- 
quently and pointedly, and even if those who wish well to 
the colony do every thing in their power to allay the angry 
feeling, and to restore friendly relations among them, which 
have been disturbed, nobody knows how, yet.it is of no use, 
good will is gone, a hard, thoughtless word, from one of the 
‘ gentry,’ as they already begin to be called, which, perhaps, 
he never meant himself, gives the finishing touch, and some 
fine morning Peter clears out this way, Paul that. 

“ Those who possessed the least now come off the best ; 
all the sacrifices made by the founders are forgotten ; they 
must not calculate upon gratitude, and soon find themselves 
alone again.” 


11 


226 


THE MOUTH OF THE BIG HATCHEE. 


“ It would be best, then, for persons of the same way of 
thinking, and of the same style of education, only to join in 
the formation of such a colony ; the objection to which you 
allude would thereby be obviated.” 

“ It would, to be Sure; but a thousand others arise,” 
continued Schwarz ; “just imagine a party issuing from Ger- 
many consisting of nothing but — I will assume even — coun- 
try people, acquainted with one another — there shall not be 
among them a single gentleman farmer who is accustomed to 
have bailiffs and servants under him — just imagine them — left 
to their own resources in a country of which they do not un- 
derstand even the language, much less the manners and cus- 
toms, the poor devils would be surrounded by knaves and 
speculators directly ; and even assuming that such colonists 
really should hold firmly and inseparably together, and 
should not allow themselves to be cheated in any way, 
(which is very improbable,) still they would not advance a 
step ; and thus, going from one extreme to another, for the 
very reason that they did not speculate at all — indeed, could 
not speculate — they would resemble cattle tethered to a bar- 
ren heath, although beautiful green pastures might bespread 
out around them. If any good were to be done with such 
colonies, my dear friend, you may rest assured that the 
Americans, who must be best fitted for them, would have 
discovered and realized it themselves. But they know bet- 
ter ; they stand there singly, free and independent, and a 
German should follow their example in this respect, as he is 
compelled to do in a thousand other things.” 

Werner looked out upon the yellow waters, reflectively, 
for some time, and after a short pause, asked — 

“ And what do you advise me to do, then ?” 

“ Come with me,” said Schwarz. “ I am going to the 
southern part of Missouri ; there I ahall purchase a little 
improvement — that is to say, a place where one of the 
restless and ever westward-moving Americans has worked 
before, and where I need not be obliged to clear land for 
the first year’s crop at all events. We’ll seek for a little 
place for yourself somewhere in the neighbourhood, buy 
cattle as soon as we get there, so as to lose no time in rearing 
them, and then you may as well work for a few months, or 
even for a year, as may be agreeable to us both, upon my 
land ; at the expiration of that time, I hope to have brought 


THE MOUTH OF THE BIG HATCHEE. 


227 


you so far that you may commence on your own account, 
and then the sooner you fetch home your bride the better.” 

“ Oh, my dear Schwarz ! — you paint the future much 
too brightly ; I don’t even hope to be so near to the fulfilment 
of my wishes.” 

“ Well, we shall see,” said Schwarz, laughing — “ we 
shall see. But where has Helldorf got to ? he hasn’t shown 
himself the whole morning ; we must be nearly there.” 

“ He was sitting above, on the hurricane deck, beside the 
pilot,” replied Werner. “ Shall we go up ?” 

At this moment, the large ship-bell gave the signal for 
landing ; the boat, too, approached the shore more and more, 
and there, in the shade of enormous cotton-wood trees and 
cypresses, stood an insignificant little log hut, almost con- 
cealed by immense piles of cordwood, and making its presence 
known merely by the blue smoke which arose from its clay- 
plashed chimney into the clear morning air. 

The boat landed ; across the planks, which were quickly 
shoved out, hurried away labourers, firemen, and deck- 
hands, who were followed, although more slowly, urged on by 
rough language from the mate of the vessel, by the deck 
passengers, who, on board other boats, when they undertook 
to carry wood, merely had somewhat less to pay for their 
passage, but, on board the “ Diana,” were carried gratis, so 
that the task of wood-carrying should be speedily accom- 
plished, and the journey not thereby delayed ; it being im- 
portant for that vessel to preserve her reputation as the fast- 
est boat on the Mississippi. 

It was a strange, bustling kind of life which thus suddenly 
intruded itself on the quiet forest hermitage. The clerk or 
business-man of the vessel, with a long measuring pole in his 
hand, sprang upon the piled up wood, and there measured off a 
certain number of cords, the boundary of which was marked 
by a couple of logs laid crosswise ; the impatient work-people 
then fell upon the cordwood like vultures on their prey, and 
hurried, each man with his load of six or seven long logs, down 
the steep bank again, on board, where they threw down the 
wood, and where other men stood in readiness to pile it regu- 
larly up. There might be some forty persons in all, who, like 
busy ants, swarmed out in an almost uninterrupted line over 
one piank, and returned, loaded, on board again over the 
other ; and within twelve minutes about twenty cords were 


228 


THE MOUTH OF THE BIG HATCIIEE. 


got on board. The farmer or wood-cutter had meanwhile 
received his money in the cabin above, and he was just 
engaged in taking a drop of whisky-punch at the bar, when 
the bell rang again for starting, and he hastily jumped down, 
in order not to be carried off with the boat. 

The last of the labourers snatched up the remaining logs ; 
another loosened the stern rope, the farmer himself remained 
forward beside the spring rope ; the cry, “ All aboard !” was 
heard, and the planks, seized by others of the sailors or deck 
hands, flew back. 

“ Go ahead !” cried the captain, from the upper deck — 
the rope struck into the water — other sailors stood forward 
near the bowsprit, and shoved off her head with long poles ; 
and soon after, she was panting once more away on her 
course up stream. 

“ Are we still far from the mouth of the Hatchee ?” in- 
quired Werner of young Helldorf, who had exchanged a few 
words with the American cord wood cutter. 

“ Scarcely five miles ; we may be there within an hour,” 
replied the other ; “ but I scarcely think that we shall be 
able to reach the settlement itself this evening.” 

“ We had, perhaps, on that account, better remain at the 
mouth of the river, and start from thence early to-morrow 
morning,” Schwarz suggested ; “ then we shall have no oc- 
casion to sleep in the open air.” 

“ But lose half a day” — Werner quickly interrupted him. 
“ What harm will it do us if we should pass one night under 
the open sky ? You are, no doubt, used to it, and it won’t 
hurt me either;, at worst, one can only catch cold.” 

“Well,” said Schwarz with a smile, “I have no objec- 
tion : your impatience appears to me very natural — therefore, 
let it be so. But, Helldorf, hadn’t you better go up to the 
pilot again, that we may not pass the place by mistake ; that 
would be a joke !” 

“ No, no ; the pilot has assured me that he knows the 
spot,” said the latter, “ and he will put us out there ; but, by 
way of precaution, I’ll remind him of it again. In the mean- 
while, you two had better get our luggage down into the little 
yawl astern, so that we may not occasion any further delay 
to the vessel on that account.” 

He ascended the narrow stairs which led over the paddle- 
box ; Schwarz and Werner in the meantime followed his 


THE MOUTH OF THE BIG HATCHEE. 


229 


advice, got their boxes and bags into the little boat, which 
was made fast astern by two stout ropes, and was towed after 
the steamer over the swelling waves, and then returned to 
the boiler-deck to await the stopping of the Diana. 

They now passed a rounded point of land which project- 
ed far into the river, and continued to steer for a while along 
the eastern bank, in order to keep in the deeper channel, but 
then, just as a sand-bank began to show its white surface at 
no great distance from them, the bow of the boat suddenly 
turned from the land, and kept a course obliquely across the 
stream towards the western shore. 

“ Yonder is another little river, falling into the Mississip- 
pi,” said Schwarz, pointing from the starboard gallery of the 
boat back towards the land which they were leaving more 
and more behind them — “yonder, where the bright roof of 
the log-hut stands out.” 

“ You call that a river !” said Werner; “ you are liberal 
with your fine names ; three houses cannot stand near each 
other but you dub them a town. But how desert and wild 
the prospect looks here ; the treacherous rolling stream with 
its flood of mud, the flat shores without a single eminence, 
the dead sand-bank, which, like a winding-sheet, skirts the 
gloomy forest. I should not like to live here ; the whole ap- 
pearance of the country seems to tell of fever and misery.” 

“ Yes, it is a miserable kind of life, sure enough, that on 
the banks of the Mississippi ; though it is nothing to speak of 
just now ; but in the time of the floods, when the river over- 
flows its bapks and inundates the whole country — you should 
pass then ; the log huts standing on piles seem to swim upon 
the waters, the flood as it rises higher and higher lifts up 
their floor boards and washes them off, and not unfrequently 
even tears away the miserable little dwellings themselves in 
its greedy embrace, and carries them off towards the Gulf 
of Mexico.” 

“ I really can’t think how rational beings should like to 
settle here,” said Werner, “for if ” 

“ There lies the Halchee,” cried Helldorf, who now came 
running down from the hurricane deck, pointing astern to 
the very spot which had already attracted the attention of the 
two friends — “ there lies our destinationf and the confounded 
captain won’t put us ashore !” 


230 


THE MOUTH OF THE BIG HATCHEE. 


“What! not land us !” exclaimed Werner and Schwarz, 
jumping up from their seats, surprised. 

“Oh, hang him !” said Schwarz ; “ he must land us ; in 
the first place, we have not paid our fare beyond— and, second- 
ly, we won’t go any further ” 

“Yes, all that is very well, but what are you to do with 
the captain of a steamer on board his own boat ; there he is 
the most absolute of monarchs, and assumes to act with the 
utmost arbitrariness. It is true that you may ‘ summons’ 
him at the next town, but that again is attended with so much 
trouble that one cannot make up one’s mind to adopt it un- 
less in an extremity.” 

“ But that is shameful,” said Werner, angrily ; “ he takes 
money for our passage, and then drags us past the place 
where we want to land. But, my dear Mr. Helldorf, may 
you not be mistaken ? That can’t be the mouth of the Big 
Hatchee, for according to what Dr. Normann told us, there 
should be a town there.” 

“ Dr. Normann no doubt told you many things which 
were untrue,” replied Helldorf, very gravely ; “ I fear, I 
fear that he has played another of his scoundrel tricks, and 
that with complete success. I ought not to have let him get 
off so quickly, but what could I do with him in New York 
without proofs ?” 

“ But what in the name of goodness are we to be at here ?” 
cried Werner. “ How much further is this self-willed gentle- 
man going to drag us along with him ?” 

“ Probably to the next town where he may stop, or per- 
haps, even to the next wood station.” 

“ That would be pleasant,” growled Schwarz ; “ we have 
only just now taken in wood enough to last us till evening at 
least. No, he must put us out before ; probably the place at 
the Hatchee was not convenient for him to stop, because he 
had to keep so far from shore on account of the sand- bank, 
and would have been compelled to wait a long time for the 
return of the boat.” 

“ Certainly, that was the reason,” replied Helldorf ; “ and 
the pilot tells me that the captain has made a considerable 
wager that he will reach Louisville, which is 1400 miles 
from New Orleans, ^within six days. On that account it is 
that he takes deck-passengers for their services as wood-car- 


THE MOUTH OF THE BIG HATCHEE. 


231 


riers merely, and only stops at those places where he is ob- 
liged.” 

“ Then I’ll speak to him,” said Schwarz ; “ so that, at all 
events, he may not carry us too far. If we land at any lit- 
tle town, or at a farm even, we probably may be able to get 
a canoe with which to return the few miles.” 

Schwarz did as he proposed, but the swift boat car- 
ried them with great speed, for several hours more, away 
from their destination, and it was not until the Diana was 
rushing close past the eastern bank, and there, at a conveni- 
ent spot for lying-to, found a considerable number of passen- 
gers, who had been waiting for the first steamer that should 
pass, that the captain gave the signal for putting out the boat. 
The three friends did not wait to be told twice, but quickly 
took their seats, and found themselves in a few seconds more 
on dry ground. Scarcely, however, had they touched the 
sand, before their boxes and bags were chucked after them, 
by the sailors, with the most amiable naivete in the world ; 
with as little ceremony did they get on board the luggage 
which belonged to the passengers who were taken up there, 
and which was lying ready, hurried the passengers themselves 
after it, and in a couple of minutes from their departure they 
were alongside their boat again. A rope was thrown to them, 
and whilst the passengers (among whom were some women) 
were left to get from the low boat aboard the high steamer 
as well as they could, the latter already dashed on again, 
panting and foaming wildly. 

The proprietor of the farm where they stopped was then 
at the water’s edge, whither he had accompanied the persons 
who had just left, and he received the three, friends, who, as 
he naturally supposed, had come there on purpose to see him ; 
for his little clearing lay in the midst of an immense reed- 
brake, and was not in any way connected, by land at least, 
with other places or settlements. 

Helldorfsoon explained to him the cause of this really very 
unintentional visit. Nevertheless, the farmer gave them a 
hearty welcome, and comforted them with the assurance that 
the Diana was not the only one of the fast boats which com- 
mitted such arbitrary acts. He promised them, moreover, a 
good canoe, large enough to carry them and their effects down 
stream, only that they must get out of the way of the swell 


232 


THE MOUTH OF THE BIG HATCHEE. 


caused by the steamers, as that was dangerous to a deep 
going canoe, or hollowed-out tree stem. 

This was cold comfort, certainly, but there was no choice, 
for they could not have got along by land, even had they 
been willing to leave their things in the lurch, a reed-brake 
in the Valley of the Mississippi being about the worst imagin- 
able of impassable thickets or wildernesses. So for a few 
dollars, they bought the little vessel, and were for putting 
their things aboard, and going off at once. But the farmer 
would not hear of this ; it was dinner-time — dinner was 
waiting, as he said, on the table, and they should on no 
account leave his land hungry, particularly as they had a 
considerable journey before them, and it was doubtful besides 
whether they would be able to reach the mouth of the 
Hatchee before darkness set in. 

Werner, it is true, would have preferred starting at once, 
for he could get no rest or peace so near his sweetheart ; on the 
other hand, his stomach spoke pretty distinctly in favour of 
the offer of the hospitable American, so they accompanied the 
latter to his dwelling, which was but a few hundred yards 
off, and where they were most heartily received by the mis- 
tress of the house, a very pretty, neat, and tidily dressed — 
but rather pale and delicate-looking, little woman. 

Here they remained for it might be an hour or more, and 
then they were obliged to take some Indian corn bread and 
cold turkey for the journey with them, in order, the young 
lady said, that they might not arrive there hungry again. 
But so quickly had they become acquainted with, and even 
attached to these good people, that after no more than an 
hour passed in their company, they already parted from 
them unwillingly. But time pressed, the journey which they 
had to make was a long one, and they wished, if possible, to 
reach the mouth of the Hatchee before evening, at all events, 
in order to hear from the farmer residing there, whose country 
they had learned from their host, some particulars of the 
fortunes of the colony. 

Their canoe, which, from its size, might even pretend to 
the name of a pirogue, was excellent, and bore them, while 
Helldorf steered, and Schwarz and Werner rowed, quickly 
down stream. But the warning to avoid the swell raised by 
steamers seemed to have been by no means unnecessary ; for 
once, when they had not troubled themselves about a boat 


THE MOUTH OF THE BIG HATCHEE. 


233 


passing far away towards the opposite shore, the canoe nar- 
rowly escaped being swamped by the waves, although these 
were already much weakened by the distance. By dint of 
great exertions they managed to keep themselves above water, 
with the head of their little bark towards the swell which rolled 
in towards them, whilst the two rowers had as much as they 
could do to bale out the water that washed over the gun- 
wale. Rendered cautious by this, they landed each time that 
they saw a steamer coming — and once, when the gigantib 
Louisiana rushed past them, they carried their boxes upon 
shore, for this powerful boat threw waves nearly eight feet 
in height upon the bank. These repeated stoppages de- 
layed their progress very much, and, when the sun set, they 
had not yet reached the longed-for spot. But the moon shone 
down clearly from the blue firmament, and they knew that 
by hugging the eastern shore they could not very well miss 
the place itself, as the considerable sand-bank above the mouth 
marked the neighbourhood distinctly enough. They reached 
it, accordingly, at last — glided past it — crossed the Hatchee 
— and landed opposite the house, just where a tolerably 
thick cotton-wood tree had fallen with its top in the stream, 
.while its root still rested above on the bank, and thereby 
warded aside the current, and, to a certain extent, whilst 
they lay close under its shade, formed a secure harbour 
for the boat. 

They were about to go at once into the house, from the 
crevices of which a dim light issued, but another steamer 
coming up stream, warned them, first of all, to get their things 
into a place of safety ; they carried them, therefore, up the 
bank, whilst the dogs lying near the house gave tongue, 
and announced the presence of strangers by barking and 
howling. 

But the people in the house appeared to trouble them- 
selves little about the noise, for no door was opened ; and 
had not the fire glimmering within betrayed the vicinity of 
human beings, our party would have supposed the hut unin- 
habited. 

“ They seem to be very careless about robbers or thieves,” 
said Helldorf, laughing, when they had carried up the last 
of their effects, and were going down to their pirogue again, 
to remain beside it until the approaching steamer had swept 
11 * 


234 


THE MOUTH OF THE BIG HATCHEE. 


past, so that their rocking boat should not be washed away 
by the waves. 

“There won’t be much to steal there!” said Schwarz; 
“ there is generally not much to be got from the farmers, but 
a bit of cold steel or a lump of hot lead, and the thievish 
gentry rather avoid them. Nobody has a lock on his door — 
a wooden bolt, shoved forward from the inside or outside, 
answers the same purpose, and affords as much security ; — 
But, didn’t you hear some one speak ? The voice seemed 
to come from the banks of the Mississippi.” 

“ I heard nothing,” said Helldorf. 

“ Oh, yes, I did, distinctly,” replied Schwarz ; “ probably 
’tis from the people, or negroes, from the house here, who 
may be about to light a fire to induce the passing steamer to 
land, and take in wood.” 

But the steamer engaged their whole attention for the 
time, and not a word more was exchanged, for the colossus 
rushed nearer and nearer, and close behind it followed the 
foaming powerful waves, and rocked and beat about the crank 
boat so madly and wildly, that it was only with some exertion 
that the three men could protect it from them. But the waves 
disappeared as suddenly as they came ; and Helldorf took 
hold of the long painter, which passed through a hole forward 
in the bow, and was just about lo make it fast to the branch 
of a fallen tree, when he suddenly stopped in a listening pos- 
ture, with his body advanced forward, and his hand raised. 
Immediately afterwards, the friends looked at each other in 
astonishment, for angry sounds, as of persons quarrelling, 
were heard in that direction ; these were quickly succeeded 
by a half-suppressed cursing and groaning, and, in the next, 
by the report of a shot. The sound of hoofs of galloping 
horses next struck on the ear ; it came nearer and nearer, 
and, about the moment when the horsemen must have reached 
the open space, a smart boat, rowed by one man only, glided 
out into the stream. 

“ Massa ! take me ’long with you ! — for God’s sake take 
me ’long with you !” — cried a voice from the shore. But 
the man in the boat did not appear to heed it, but rowed on 
with evident exertibn, and that right across the river, in doing 
which he was carried a little downwards by the current, 
which was not very rapid in that place. 

The Germans had watched the whole proceeding with 


THE MOUTH OF THE BIG HATCHEE. 


235 


the most anxious interest, and in the surprise of the moment, 
really hardly knew which way to turn, or what course to 
pursue ; but Helldorf now exclaimed : — 

“ There’s something wrong going forward here ; let us 
go up, perhaps we may yet be of some service and with 
these words he was about to run up the river bank ; at that 
moment there resounded across from the boat, which was al- 
ready almost lost in the obscurity, a cry for help, so loud and 
urgent that Helldorf stopped in alarm ; but Werner cried 
out, as he started forward : — 

“ That was Bertha’s voice, by Heaven ! Helldorf, 
Schwarz, if you are my friends, show it now !” and, without 
waiting for a reply, or caring about the wild shouts and noise 
which now arose on the bank of the stream, he sprang into 
the boat, which they had just quitted, and the two friends had 
scarcely time to follow him, and to resume their places, 
before he pushed from the shore and took to the oar with all 
the vigour of which he was master. 

“ Stay, or I fire !” cried a voice from the shore, which 
Werner instantly recognised as Von Schwanthal’s. 

“ ’Tis I !” he called in reply — 44 I, Werner !” 

44 Stay, or I fire !” repeated the other, who, in his excite- 
ment, did not appear to have comprehended the words. 

44 Then fire, and be d d !” growled Helldorf, who 

thought that they had got far enough from shore not to need 
to fear a shot, especially in the dark ; but Von Schwanthal, 
who never doubted but that this boat was connected with the 
other, and, in his haste and excitement, not remembering that 
Bertha, herself, should she happen to be in it, might be hit, 
levelled and fired ; and directly after the flash, even before 
the report reached them, the slugs, with which the gun had 
been loaded, struck in and around the pirogue, and Werner 
could not suppress a low cry of pain. 

The second barrel missed fire. 

44 Are you wounded ?” cried Schwarz, turning round in 
alarm, towards his friend ; 44 has that blockhead hit you ?” 

44 Hit, certainly ; but it’s nothing — only grazed, I believe 
— for God’s sake don’t let us lose time — we shall be too late 
else — away ! — yonder flies the boat, and if he once reaches 
the further shore, how are we to follow him ?” 

Schwarz and Helldorf knew but too well the truth of this 
remark, and, without another word, they urged on the slim 


236 


TREACHERY WITHIN TREACHERY. 


canoe, which was considerably lightened by the removal of 
their baggage, with the speed of an arrow, through the cur- 
rent, after the fugitive. 


CHAPTER IX. 

TREACHERY WITHIN TREACHERY. 

“ Massa !” said the mulatto, after he had rowed awhile, 
till large drops of sweat rolled down his forehead — “ massa, 
this is confounded hard work ! Shall we drink a drop ? — the 
bottle lies beside you.” And he raised his oar out of the 
water whilst he said these words, so that the clear drops 
slowly trickled from it into the stream ; Dr. Normann also 
stopped rowing, and breathed hard. 

“ Confound it !” he then whispered, “ this is cursed hard 
work ! I should like you to take the oar a little. There 
you sit at your ease, enjoying yourself! Let me steer 
awhile.” 

Normann made this proposition more for the purpose of 
getting beside Bertha than to be released from the work, 
which, though hard, was not altogether new to him ; the bold 
looks which the rascally Yankee now no longer turned away 
for a moment from the girl, did not please him, and he was 
less and less able to suppress a growing suspicion that the 
American did not mean fair play. 

“ Nonsense !” retorted Turner, who appeared by no means 
disposed to give up good-naturedly any advantage which he 
might have obtained. “ You want to steer, do you ? so that 
we may run foul of bushes or snags every minute, and after- 
wards get too late into the Mississippi — eh ? No, every second 
is worth gold, and the change of places would occupy us too 
long. Row away ! row away ! — rest when we are once in 
the river ! — there’s no time for it now. Away ! — when we’re 
in the Mississippi, you may steer, — a trifle either way is of 
no consequence there. Away, I say ! or you will have no 
one to thank but yourself for the destruction of us all !” 

The men took to their oars again in silence, and shot down 
stream with wonderful speed. The moon lent them her sil- 


TREACHERY WITH1H TREACHERY. 


*237 


ver light ; and it. was not until they caught sight of the shining 
sheet of water, the Mississippi, that they stopped a moment to 
take counsel whether they should attempt the passage at once, 
or reconnoitre first. 

Turner voted for the latter plan, and the mulatto was 
despatched to examine the safety of the mouth ; but he re- 
turned within a few minutes, laughing, and chuckled out, 
shaking all the time with inward enjoyment — 

“Just as I s’posed ! — a confounded rough road through 
the woods, and the worthy Dutchmen will have a while to 
ride yet, before they catch sight of the shore ! Well, I wish 
’em joy ! But now, massa, I must have a drink, by golly ! 
or else I won’t touph an oar again !” 

Turner handed him over the flask in silence, but imme- 
diately turned to Normann, and said — 

“ Doctor, it’s time that we changed places ; now you may 
steer. But just step ashore a minute ; we must bale the 
water out of the boat — the confounded thing leaks. Confu- 
sion ! what a row those dogs are making ! — and yet they’re 
to windward of us. What the devil ails them ?” 

“ No cons’quence,” grinned the mulatto ; “ the people 
will think they are barking at the steamer that is just passing 
up stream. But, halloo, massa! she’s going close in shore! 
— will make great swell.” 

“ We had better lighten our boat,” said Turner, “ else 
we may perhaps end by getting swamped.” 

“ There’s no fear,” said Normann. “ With this boat, 
I’d row under the very paddles of the Sultana herself, and 
she shouldn’t ship a drop !” 

“ Yes, when you’re once out in deep water,” growled 
Turner ; “ but here, so close to the mud bank, stuck all over 
with old snags, the devil may trust it ! — it’s easy work, and 
’tis better to be safe ! If we ship water now, who knows but 
that the horsemen may be upon us before we have time to 
bale it out again ?” 

Without awaiting any further answer from Normann, he 
took Bertha’s sister this time in his arms, and carried her 
ashore. This had the wished-for result ; Normann followed 
quickly with Bertha, who turned her pale countenance away 
with a shudder, when she felt herself touched by the hands 
of the scoundrel ; and the mulatto had to mount guard, 
Turner putting the painter into the doctor’s hand, to hold the 


238 


TREACHERY WITHIN TREACHERY. 


light vessel, whilst he himself, notwithstanding all the sway- 
ing and rocking from the swell, driven up the Hatchee by 
the steamer, which now rushed past, baled her out. As soon 
as this work was concluded, he gave a gentle whistle, scarce 
audible, and the mulatto immediately came running down 
the steep river bank. 

“ Bring one of the girls,” said Turner to him — “ the eldest 
first : so ; lay her this way. Doctor, you’ll get seated be- 
tween the two lasses now, only don’t let them make you forget 
to steer.” He laughed, at the same time, quietly to himself, 
and it struck the doctor as though he whispered a few words 
to the mulatto. Be that as it might, Normann’s suspicions 
became stronger, and he was thinking of letting go the rope, 
and taking his place in the boat again, when the mulatto 
came back. 

“ Now, massa doctor,” said the yellow fellow, showing 
his ivories — “ take the youngest one, if you please, — I’ll hold 
the boat so long.” He took hold of the rope, and advanced 
the right foot. Normann stood, for a few seconds, in doubt, 
but then turned half aside from him, as though he were about 
to follow his advice ; the half-son of Africa, too, allowed 
himself to be deceived, sprang rapidly towards the boat, 
shoved it quickly from the shore, and was just about to fol- 
low with a rapid spring, when Normann, who perhaps had a 
notion of something of the sort — and yet, again, could scarce 
believe that his own friends would leave him in the lurch in 
so shameful a manner — upset the well-spun scheme, by sud- 
denly throwing himself upon, and flinging his arms round 
him. 

“Hold, sir!” he cried — “you rascal — you! You don’t 
escape so ! Turner, you perjured villain! would you be- 
tray me ?” 

“ Make yourself loose, Nick !” cried Turner to the mu- 
latto — “ make yourself loose ! — quick ! By Jove, I hear the 
horses ! We are lost if they catch us !” 

“ You scoundrel ! I keep you in pawn !” cried the doctor, 
who was now driven to extremity. “ He can’t get away 
alone, and we shall, at all events, go to the devil together !” 

‘‘Haven’t you a knife about you, Nick?” exclaimed 
Turner. The danger increased every moment: a few mi- 
nutes more must decide their fate. “ Come quick ! — come 
both of you, then, in the name of all the devils in hell ! — only 


TREACHERY WITHIN TREACHERY 


239 


quickly !” lie cried, at last, in a rage, for he knew how in- 
valuable every second was. But even if he could have 
made the combatants comprehend his wish, Normann, after 
what had taken place, would not, on any account, have put 
himself into the hands of his treacherous companions ; but 
as it was, neither of the two enraged men heard even a syl- 
lable of the proposal. Nick had, with infinite trouble, got 
his hand into his pocket, and pulled out a small pocket pistol, 
which he quickly and secretly turned towards the German’s 
forehead. But this movement of his opponent had not re- 
mained unobserved by the latter, and he threw his arm up- 
ward, and struck the weapon aside, at the very moment the 
mulatto was pulling the trigger : the ball even grazed his 
ear, and the powder singed his face. But now, driven to the 
extremity of rage, he no longer heard even the approaching 
galloping of the horses, but seizing the slim figure of the 
negro with all the strength he possessed, he threw him to the 
ground. In the same moment, the pursuers appeared on the 
river bank, close above the two wrestlers, and Turner’s boat 
glided out beneath the shadow of the bushes into the Missis- 
sippi. 

“ Confusion !” said the Yankee, gnashing his teeth, find- 
ing he had to handle the two heavy oars in tholes which did 
not correspond. “Confusion seize that awkward brute of a 
nigger ! to let himself be upset like that by a Dutchman ; 
if they only hang the varmint, and I hear of it, that’ll be 
some comfort ! Well, my pretty, now we two must make 
the journey alone,” he said, turning grinning to the pris- 
oner lying before him ; “ didn’t 1 tell you, my poppet, that 
you ” 

“ Help, help, here ! Help!” suddenly cried with a loud 
voice, the unhappy girl, who had, meanwhile, with the most 
fearful exertions, freed herself from the gag. “ Help, here ! 
Help !” 

In the next instant, the palm of the American’s hand was 
on her lips, and he whispered to her, through his clenched 
teeth — 

“ Ho-ho ! my pretty little dove, must I draw the bit a 
little tighter ?” So,” he continued, whilst he made any fur- 
ther attempt at screaming futile, by a large woollen cloth — 
“ so ! if it should be a little close for you, you must bear it ; 
over in Arkansas, I’ll make you more comfortable.” 


240 


TREACHERY WITHIN TREACHERY. 


He seized the oars once more, and pulled away till the 
tumid veins on his forehead threatened to burst the skin ; — 
“ Stop !” resounded across from the shore, and, as he was 
gazing thither, to see to whom the call was addressed, for 
he was himself too far for it to have reference to him — 
a flash gleamed in the obscurity and the report of a shot, 
followed. 

His attention was thus drawn to the direction in which 
the shot was fired, and to his astonishment and alarm, he 
just discerned, in the dim light of the moon, the dark 
shadow of a second boat gliding on, which evidently must 
be following him. Although he could not account, in the 
first place, where this boat had come from, as the mulatto 
had found none thereabouts, or, secondly, why his enemies 
should fire upon it, yet, he did not, for a moment, hesitate 
in concluding it to contain, as it really did, pursuers ; and 
his sole aim now was to reach the opposite shore before 
it. Once there with his prize, he could, under the dark 
shadow of the woods, either give them the slip, with his boat 
even, or else easily carry his prize into the thicket, where 
pursuit would be useless. So, with his face turned to the 
dark spot, from which the flashing light of the oars, as 
they were lifted out of the water, alone announced the 
activity with which those in it were striving after their 
object, he himself pulled away lustily, and shaped his 
course, so as to give way a little to the stream, not exactly 
across, hut rather endeavouring to maintain his advantage, 
as he still thought it possible to escape them by superior 
speed. 

But he was soon undeceived, for although the pirogue 
was unquestionably clumsier in the water than the excel- 
lently modelled boat, yet the latter was not adapted to 
be rowed by one person : the tholes lay opposite sepa- 
rate seats, the one more forward than the other, and the 
working of both at the same time was highly inconven- 
ient. Turner, who knew how to scull, might, it is true, 
have easily got his boat down stream in that way, but he 
could not have made, in that fashion, so much way as the 
pirogue, and, he was consequently obliged for his own 
safety to choose the less convenient but more advantageous 
mode. 

Still, the pursuers gained upon him, and he was obliged 


TREACHERY WITHIN TREACHERY. 


241 


to turn the head of his boat more towards the stream, in 
order to reach the opposite shore as soon as possible. But 
this movement, which did not pass unnoticed by Helldorf, 
only redoubled the zeal of the Germans, and the steersman 
warned the rowers several times, not to puli too violently, 
lest they should break one of their oars — a loss which could 
not have been made good. 

Turner, was now compelled, in order to get more com- 
mand of the lower or larboard oar, and be enabled to stem 
the stream, to change the tholes, which occupied him some 
seconds, for whilst he stopped rowing, the boat’s head turned 
quite towards the stream, and she lost her course. Scarcely 
had the American resumed his seat, and got his little vessel 
in her former direction, before he saw how much nearer the 
enemy had advanced, and became conscious of the danger 
which threatened him. The current, besides, had carried 
him further down than he anticipated, and he observed, on 
turning his head to look, that he must touch the upper part of 
the sand-bank, situate on the opposite side of the river, about 
three English miles below the one before alluded to, and 
would not be able to give his pursuers the slip in the shadow 
of the wood3, or in the top of some tree fallen into the water. 
All that remained for him was to save his own life, and 
gnashing his teeth, he was compelled to admit to himself, that 
the booty, which he had considered so safe, was lost to him. 
There is no knowing what he might have done in the first 
moment of rage, had he only dared to cease rowing for an 
instant ; but as it was, he found himself almost within shot 
of the silently approaching avengers, and knew well enough* 
unless he reached the sand-bank sooner, and much sooner, 
too, than they, that he should be exposed to their fire. He 
could not possibly dare to hope, that people who engaged in 
such a pursuit were unarmed, and yet such was the case ; 
not one of the three carried so much as a pistol, and they 
had simply, on the impulse of the moment, and relying on 
the goodness of their cause, followed a desperate ruffian, who, 
there could be no doubt, would have sold hi£ life dearly. 

Turner, never without a weapon himself, thought the 
same probable of others, and as his pursuers were Germans, 
they naturally, according to his idea, carried nothing else 
than fowling-pieces or shot-guns, and those double-barrelled 
ones. But, just now, he dreaded those more than he did a 


242 


TREACHERY WITHIN TREACHERY. 


ball, for it was more probable that he should be hit by them, 
and perhaps crippled, than with a bullet. He therefore ex- 
erted himself in desperation, his limbs were bathed in sweat, 
his sinews strained almost to starting, and he was scarcely 
fifty yards distant from the strand which promised him de- 
liverance, when the boat ran upon one of the numerous 
tongues of sand which in that place run out into the stream, 
and grounded hard and fast. Turner well knew how impos- 
sible it would be for him, under existing circumstances, to 
get her afloat again, and therefore, without a second’s further 
delay, seized his rifle and shot-bag, and jumped overboard, 
and ran, with rapid bounds, through the water, which there 
was scarcely a foot in depth, towards the sandy shore. He 
had hardly reached it, before he began to spring across the 
hard sand in zig-zag, in order to avoid any shot which 
might happen to be sent after him, and in doing this per- 
formed such extraordinary gambols, that Schwarz, who im- 
mediately guessed what he was in dread of, and knew the 
groundlessness of his fears, broke out into a loud laugh. 
But Werner, who troubled himself little about the runaway- 
rascal, if he could only succeed in saving his sweetheart, 
was in half a minute’s time beside the boat left fn the lurch, 
in which the maiden, bound and gagged, was still lying. 
He was in it with a rapid spring, and in the next moment, 
Bertha, swooning from joyous surprise, rested upon his 
breast. 

For the unhappy girl had had no means of forming an 
idea that any body was in pursuit of her kidnapper ; although 
she heard the shot fired at the canoe, yet, as she was lying 
in the stern of the boat, with her face turned forward, and 
could only see the exertion with which the scoundrel was 
rowing, she gave herself up for lost. Nor had she been 
able to perceive the happy consequences which had ensued 
from her cry for help, for the American had immediately 
thrown himself upon her, and stifled any further sound by a 
new bandage. When, therefore, she felt, as she supposed, 
the boat touch the shore, she abandoned all hope, and stared, 
with fixed and horrified gaze, at the man in whose ruffianly 
power she now believed herself. But how astonished was 
she, when, without bestowing a single word upon her, he 
jumped out of the boat into the splashing water, and directly 
afterwards another boat glided alongside, out of which — 


TREACHERY WITHIN TREACHERY. 


243 


gracious Heaven! was* it one of thy angels that thou hadst 
sent ? — the very man sprang to whom her whole pure soul 
hung with devotion. The joy was too overwhelming ; she 
cast a single look of gratitude upward, into the clear sky, 
and then sank back, unconscious, into the arms which were 
clasped around her. 

In the same moment of time Turner disappeared in the 
thicket of young cotton-wood saplings, which skirted the 
sand-bank. 

“ I say, Helldorf, I think we shall make a good exchange 
here,” said Schwarz, laughing, as he followed Werner into 
the captured boat ; “ we’ll leave our old hollow log behind 
us : what say you ?” 

“ Why, of course,” said Helldorf; “ but we’ll tow it into 
the current again, so that yonder varmint may not chance to 
use it to get away. Without a vessel, may he be devoured 
by mosquitoes in Mississippi swamps.” 

“ What jumps he took !” said Schwarz, still laughing at 
the thought of the Yankee’s zig-zag flight. “ He thought, 
no doubt, that we had a whole arsenal of fire-arms aboard ; 
but, by Jove, here are two rifles, and a whole box full of 
provision, apparently.” 

“ It will be time enough for examination when we get 
back,” said Helldorf. “Werner, can you steer?” 

He nodded his head in silence, but did not remove his 
eyes from off* the countenance of his beloved, whose deadly 
pale temples he bathed with the cool water of the stream. 

“ But we’re fast aground !” exclaimed Schwarz. 

“ Wet feet won’t hurt us much,” Helldorf interrupted 
him, and jumped overboard at once to shove the boat afloat 
again. Schwarz quickly followed his example ; in a few 
seconds they felt the boat give way to their efforts, and soon 
it rocked freely and merrily again in deeper water. 

The men now jumped in, and whilst they vigorously 
plied the long oars, Werner took hold of the tiller with his 
left hand, while with his right he supported his beloved. The 
well-modelled boat glided with the speed of an arrow to- 
wards the Eastern shore once more. 

But there, meanwhile, things had proceeded wildly and 
confusedly enough. Wolfgang and Herbold, throwing them- 
selves from their horses, had seized the two traitors, who 
were struggling with each other; but the mulatto would 


244 


TREACHERY WITHIN TREACHERY. 


certainly have escaped from the firm grasp of Herbold, for, 
quick as lightning, he drew a small knife from his girdle, 
from the use of which the doctor had hitherto prevented him, 
and stuck it into the shoulder of the German, who instantly 
let go his hold in alarm ; but Pastor Hehrmann, although he 
shrank from shooting a fellow-being, even though as vile a 
criminal as he who stood before him, yet he could not help 
giving some vent to his just rage, and swinging round his 
weapon quickly, he struck, with its butt end, the hard-skulled 
son of Ethiopia, with such good will, on the head, that the 
stock broke in two, and the mulatto was doubled up without 
speech or movement. In the next moment, he, as well as 
Normann, whom Wolfgang held with an iron grasp, were 
bound so fast that they could not budge. Pastor Hehrmann 
had in the meantime, discovered his poor younger child ly- 
ing on the ground, almost lifeless with anxiety and dread ; 
he loosened her bands, and pressed her affectionately to his 
bosom, when the report of Von Schwanthal’s shot turned 
their attention in that direction. They now made out both 
boats in the moonlight, but all of them remained in un- 
certainty, for who in the world could the pursuers be, if the 
first boat contained the fugitive and his booty 1 Louisa in- 
creased their doubts by stating that the American was the 
only one now left of the treacherous band, and the Germans 
could not imagine where the other boat came from. Had 
Providence sent it to save the poor innocent girl from the 
hands of her kidnapper, or did it only bear away others of 
his rascally accomplices, who, perhaps, had been lying here 
in ambuscade to cover the traitor’s flight. 

The prisoners were required to give them some explana- 
tion ; but, however ready the mulatto might be to tell all that 
he knew, in the hope of saving his dark skin, yet he was com- 
pelled to confess that the second boat was unknown to him, 
and certainly did not belong to their party. This was the 
only circumstance which left the miserable father a glimmer 
of hope, although he could not conceive who the men might 
be who had hastened to the salvation of his child, so unex- 
pectedly, and at so critical a moment. He could now only 
pray that Heaven might prosper their good work ; and, with 
folded hands, and with his sobbing daughter leaning on his 
breast, the poor unhappy man stood and gazed, fixed and 


TREACHERY WITHIN TREACHERY. 


245 


motionless, out into the silent surface of the stream, as though 
he would have penetrated the obscurity which shrouded it. 

Normann and the mulatto lay firmly bound beneath a tree, 
and Von Schwanthal stood beside hem, with his gun again 
loaded and cocked ; but Herbold pulled off his coat, and was 
just endeavouring, by the faint light of the moon, to examine 
the wound which he had received from the steel of the mulatto 
when they heard the rustling of the bushes, and the younger 
Siebert, Schmidt, and an Alsatian, the former armed with a 
double-barrelled gun, and the other two carrying formidable 
bludgeons in their fists, rushed towards them. They were 
soon informed of the state of affairs, and the clubmen were 
turned into watchers of the prisoners, whilst Siebert laid 
down his weapon, and looked at Herbold’s wound ; it proved 
altogether free from danger ; the uncertain thrust had but 
grazed the shoulder and torn the skin ; a linen handkerchief 
was bound over it, and there was nothing more to be feared 
from it. 

It was then that Pastor Hehrmann, who had never turned 
away his eyes from the river, suddenly exclaimed, as he 
pointed with his left arm outstretched, down the stream — 

“ Did you hear nothing ? was not that a sound like an oar 
creaking against the hard wood of a boat’s side ?” 

All listened, and for some seconds absolute silence ensued, 
then it sounded distinctly across the water. All heard, at 
measured intervals, the regular working of a pair of oars, 
but they still remained in uncertainty whether the boat to 
which they belonged was going down the stream, or whether 
it was returning. After a quarter of an hour of the most 
exciting and painful expectation, Herbold first discerned a 
dark point in the lighter surface of the water, and soon 
after, every moment more distinctly, the outline of a boat 
became visible, ploughing the stream, and, it could no longer 
be doubted, making for the eastern shore. Now the separate 
figures of those in it might be distinguished — there were 
three of them — two rowed, and one was at the tiller — but 
what was that ? Was there not something white lying in the 
stern ? Something now moved in the boat, a white hand- 
kerchief was waved : — 

“ The Hoffnung, ahoy !” cried a loud voice to the shore. 

“ Gracious Heaven !” said Pastor Hehrmann, and his 


246 


TREACHERY WITHIN TREACHERY. 


knees trembled with joyous alarm, “ gracious Heaven was not 
that Werner’s voice ? And my daughter— Bertha ” 

“ Is saved !” the other called back ; “ we bring her ; fath- 
er, she is here !” 

The boat glided into the shade of the projecting trees, 
and immediately after they heard it strike upon the soft 
mud. How Pastor Hehrmann flew down the steep bank and 
clasped the child who was found again, he hardly knew him- 
self. It was only when held in Bertha’s arms, and when that 
excellent girl, who up to that moment had exhibited fortitude 
and moral strength, broke out into convulsive sobs, and 
clasped her father’s neck, as though she would never, never 
more loosen her embrace, that he comprehended, that he felt, 
that he had indeed got both his dear children back, and with 
a voice almost choked by emotion, he cried — 

“ My Lord, I thank thee !” 

How describe, with cold dead words, the feelings which the 
happy ones felt, when, in constantly renewed embraces, they 
felt completely that they were restored to each other, never 
more to be separated ! How gladly did the father welcome 
the worthy deliverers of his daughters, two of whom were 
already his old and dear friends, and how often had they to 
recount again and again how they had just happened to ar- 
rive in time to save Bertha from an ill which — he shuddered at 
the mere thought of such misery ! 

And why, during all these relations, did the dear great- 
hearted girl hide her little head, with a deep blush, in her 
father’s breast 1 Why did she not look freely and openly 
into the eyes of those who had so readily hurried to her res- 
cue when she was in need and danger, as she had hitherto, 
unconscious of evil, done towards all men ? Oh, do not 
press the poor girl, her nerves have not recovered from the 
fright and dread, and — Werner has, during the short pas- 
sage, been whispering so many, so very many things into 
her ears, that — but ’tis no business of ours, and we had bet- 
ter stick to our story. 

“ What’s to be done now with these two fellows here ?” 
said Von Schwanthal, who probably felt the evening air get- 
ting too damp for his taste. “ Shall we take them into the 
house, or shall we carry them to the settlement with us ?” 

“ We’ll leave them here,” said Wolfgang ; “ what’s the 
use of dragging them about any further V’ Either we will 


TREACHERY WITHIN TREACHERY. 


247 


pronounce judgment upon them ourselves to-morrow, which, 
at all events would be the shorter course, or we will take 
them, bound, in the boat, to Memphis, so that they may be 
punished there.” 

“ That will certainly be best,” said Pastor Hehrmann, 
“ for, may Heaven preserve us from executing the law our- 
selves, as I have heard is sometimes practised here in Ame- 
rica ! We will not dye our hands in hujnan blood.” 

“ Am I dreaming ?” said Helldorf, who had stopped to 
listen as soon as he heard Wolfgang’s voice, advancing towards 
the latter, and availing himself of the uncertain light of the 
moon. “ Isn’t that — by all that’s wonderful ! — Wolfgang !” 

“ Helldorf!” the other exclaimed, embracing his friend, 
and pressing him to his breast — “ Helldorf, God bless you, 
my dear fellow — Helldorf!” and with that word, the name of 
a man with whom he had in past times shared joy and sor- 
row — the remembrance came upon him suddenly of all that 
he had lost, of all that he had suffered, and he cast himself 
in dumb and scarce bearable agony on the shoulder of his 
friend ! 

“Friends! I have a hundred dollars in gold upon me,” 
Dr. Normann now suddenly whispered to the two men who 
kept watch over him, “ they are yours if you will cut through 
the cord, and turn away your head for a moment.” 

“ Hit him over the head, Hans, if he opens his mouth 
again,” said Schmidt, growling a hearty curse to himself 
into the bargain. “ Does the blackguard think to bribe us, 
too ? Wait, you dog !” 

Under any other circumstances it is probable that Nor- 
mann would have been deterred by this not over-encouraging 
answer, but at the sound of the voices of the two men, Wolf- 
gang and Helldorf, filled his soul with horror, and he dreaded 
the worst. 

“ I have five hundred dollars with me,” he whispered 
again, as he endeavoured to raise himself; “my men, I’ll 
make you rich, only loosen my bands, and give me a minute’s 
start. Five hundred dollars, I say, do you hear ? — five hun- 
dred dollars !” 

“ Shall I give him a tap ?” asked the Alsatian, and raised 
the heavy iron-shod stick, which in starting he had seized in 
haste as the most convenient weapon of offence and defence. 


248 


TREACHERY WITHIN TREACHERY. 


“ It won’t do any harm,” Schmidt considered, growling, 
“ for he has already richly deserved ” 

The Alsatian did not wait for the conclusion of his com- 
rade’s sentence, but gave the bound criminal such a hard 
and well meant cut across the shoulders, that the latter 
yelled with pain and rage. 

“ Halloo ! what’s up there ?” Von Schwanthal now cried, 
as he levelled his gun, and quickly advanced. “Is he trying 
to get away ?” 

“ He’s offering a bribe again,” said Schmidt, laughing, 
“ and the Alsatian has forbidden him rather feelingly.” 

“Aha! he would like to be off,” said Von Schwanthal, 
“ I dare say. His is a desperate case. I wouldn’t be in 
his shoes for the best bearskin in the world. But I think it 
would be better for us to take those worthies in-doors. In 
the first place they can be easier guarded there, and besides 
it’s getting very unpleasant out here. Mr. Wolfgang, I dare 
say, has got a little bread and meat — you understand !” 

“ Aha ! you are hungry,” said the party alluded to, with 
a smile ; “ well we shall manage to find something. But 
here comes Scipio, with fire, I see. That’s right of you, 
old fellow ; throw the burning logs down here ; we are not 
going to stay out here all night, it is true, but they may 
light us for the moment.” 

He took, at the same time, a burning pine-torch out of 
the old negro’s hand, and stepped up to the place where the 
malefactors were guarded. 

“ So this gentleman, here, wanted to bribe our watch- 
men, eh ?” said Wolfgang, while he passed the flaming light 
towards the pale face of the doctor. “ That, I suppose, is 
your much-praised Dr. Norrnann. Confusion !” he suddenly 
cried out, interrupting himself, and starting back in surprise, 
as though he had trodden on a snake — “Wsehler! Dr. 
Wsehler! Then there is a retributive Providence even in 
this world. Villain, thy hour has come! Mary! Mary! 
here is revenge !” And before any of the astonished spec- 
tators, who surrounded him, could interfere — yes, even be- 
fore the pale sinner himself had any notion of what was in 
store for him — Wolfgang, driven by the sight of the hated 
one to the wildest and most unbridled rage, swung the heavy 
brand which he carried in his hand, and dashed it down with 
all his might upon the malefactor, who uttered a loud scream 


TREACHERY WITHIN TREACHERY. 


249 


of dread and horror. The sparks flew far around, and the 
flame was extinguished — but again the glimmering club was 
raised and threatened destruction to him who had now fallen 
back unconscious; it was Pastor Hehrmann who saved him. 
He seized the enraged man’s arm with all his strength, and 
begged and entreated of him to stay, and not to stain his soul 
with murder. 

“ Murder !” said Wolfgang, musingly. “ Murder !” he 
re-echoed as if in a dream. “ Yes, yes, it would be murder 
— yet that villain, has he not deserved death a thousand-fold 
at my hands ? Was he not the cause that we were obliged 
to leave the home we had found in a beautiful country, and 
that my wife now — killed by fever and grief — lies in the 
cold earth ? But you are right,” he continued, after a short 
pause, whilst the smoking torch fell from his hand — “ you 
are right ; I will not stain myself with the blood of this vil- 
lain — he shall be handed over to the hangman , to whom he 
belongs.” 

“ Hold there — hold fast !” cried Schmidt, as he made a 
spring, and missing his footing, pulled down the Alsatian 
who stood beside him, to the ground, too. 

“ Back !” cried Von Schwanthal, at the same time, as he 
opposed himself to the dark form of the fugitive mulatto, 
who was just about to fly past him into the thicket. 

But perceiving the German levelling at him, and fearing 
the fowling-piece, which stopped his only outlet in that di- 
rection, more, he turned back and attacked young Siebert, 
who was taken by surprise, tore the gun out of his hand, and 
then sprung with it, with a tremendous leap, right into the 
stream, whose waters met over him again. 

“ Wait a bit, you scoundrel !” said Von Schwanthal, as 
he sprang to the edge of the bank, and raised the gun to his 
cheek — “ wait, you scoundrel ! only show your black woolly 
head again, and I’ll let fly at you, so that ” 

“Let him go,” Werner pegged, as he pushed the barrel, 
which was already aimed, aside — “ we are all so happy, this 
evening. Human blood, spilt by our hands, would put us 
out. He will not escape his fate.” 

“ You are right, I will willingly leave him ; however, 
you’ve .saved his life, that’s certain, else by this time he 
would have been on the high road to the infernal regions. 
But, if he really does go to the devil, we’ve got the head 

12 


250 


TREACHERY WITHIN TREACHERY. 


and chief rogue, and he must pay the penalty for both 
this time. Wait a bit, my little doctor, we’ll make you 
swallow something which shall be more bitter than your 
own pills.” 

But the doctor did not hear a word of all these friendly 
addresses, for, stupified by the blow, he continued to lie 
there rigid and unconscious, or else pretended to be so, and 
was carried by his sentinels into the house. 

The mulatto, who had made such good use of the moment 
when they were all occupied with the doctor, and was now 
joyously dividing the flood with sturdy arms, struck out 
towards the opposite shore. Yon Schwanthal could, for a; 
long time, trace the light stripe which the swimmer left be- 
hind him in the water. He certainly appeared to have 
escaped from the hands of mortal avengers ; but a greater 
one watched him ; Nemesis stretched forth her iron grasp 
towards him — he had met his fate. 

There are few who can plough their way across the 
mighty father of the waters — the Mississippi ; the current is 
too strong ; a thousand whirlpools exhaust the swimmer, al- 
though they may not be powerful enough to suck him down. 
The mulatto stemmed the flood with powerful chest, and had 
already reached the middle of the river ; he then turned on 
his back to rest, and now began again to labour with re- 
doubled exertion. 

But this it was which proved fatal to him ; he had, from 
the very first, to escape the still-dreaded shot, over-exerted 
himself, and now, when fear lest he should not reach the 
saving shore came to be superadded, it operated cripplingly 
upon him. His breathing became more laboured, his move- 
ments quicker, but also fainter, and it was only the sight of 
the shore, which constantly advanced more and more near, 
which yet maintained his spirit. He had now attained the 
dark line that mirrored the tree tops in the water, yet still 
the land receded about two hundred yards more. 

“ Courage !” he faintly gasped, whilst he clenched his 
teeth as if in grim defiance — “ courage ! yonder — but a few 
yards off, life and freedom smile ! — courage !” With a 
strength which he could only borrow from despair, he 
divided the waters. He had but a few yards more to swim 
before he could grasp the over-hanging willows of the shore. 


TREACHERY WITHIN TREACHERY. 


251 


“ Ha ! how strong the current rolls along on this side !” He 
could scarcely support himself above the whirling flood. 

“Help!” he cried: Turner must be on this side, and 
would hear him. “ Help !” In n ain — twice, already, had 
he stretched out his hand to a projecting branch, twice had 
the current’s speed sucked him away from under it. Now, 
again, a saving branch stretched out towards him — with a 
last exertion of strength, he threw himself upwards and 
towards it ; he clutched the rocking branch which projected 
far into the river. But, oh ! unfortunate wretch, it gave 
way ! it was but a floating reed which had settled there, and 
that broke in the grasp. The mulatto sank — the waves 
curled and gurgled above him. He yet clutched the 
treacherous reed in his hand, and bore it with him into the 
deep. But there — yet again — as if in the battle of struggling 
and wrestling life with the silent deep, the dark figure re- 
appeared from its watery grave ; yet again it turned its wild 
defying look up to the bright, silent, friendly moon, that 
quietly and holily poured down her peaceful light, as well 
on the passion-torn sons of man, as on the cold, slumbering 
earth, and the silver-gleaming stream. Yet again, a wild, 
blasphemous curse bubbled from the ashen lips of the 
mulatto, and the convulsed body sank for ever into the un- 
ceasingly further-rolling flood, as though nature would no 
longer suffer that hideous distorted mask to abide further in 
the wondrous harmony of her forms. 

Their caution awakened by the flight of the mulatto, the 
Germans watched their remaining prisoner with the greater 
attention and care, and the whole of them now retired to 
Wolfgang’s dwelling, partly to pass the remainder of the 
night there, partly to maintain a fire, beside which the re- 
maining pursuers, whom they also expected to arrive shortly, 
might warm and refresh themselves. However, hardly had 
Wolfgang completed the arrangements for the convenience of 
his guests, before, to the surprise of all, he led out his horse 
again, and told the men that he was about to ride back to the 
settlement that very night, to communicate the happy tidings 
of the result of their hunt to Madame Hehrmann, and relieve 
her mind, for that the anxiety of the mother for her daughters 
so shamefully carried off, must be boundless. 

Pastor Hehrmann at first tried to prevent him, but as he 
probably was alarmed for his poor wife himself, unless she 


252 


TREACHERY WITHIN TREACHERY. 


should shortly receive good tidings concerning her daughters, 
he ultimately offered himself as a companion, and, notwith- 
standing Wolfgang positively declined this at first, and 
affirmed that the pastor stood almost as much in need of rest 
and care as his daughters, and that they must at all events 
have a protector, yet the father was not deterred by that. 

“ I leave them to the care of their noble-minded pre- 
servers,” he said, grasping Werner’s hand ; “ and to-morrow 
follow us as quickly as you can — we shall await you im- 
patiently.” 

Louisa was unwilling to part with her father, but sur- 
rounded by so many friends, no further danger could threaten 
them, and to send tidings of their safety was the very thing 
she had ardently wished. The two horsemen, therefore, de- 
parted, and the remaining men divided themselves into two 
watches, to relieve one another, so as not to be overpowered 
by sleep. Werner, however, was excluded from these, for 
it now came out that he had been wounded by Von Schwan- 
thal’s shot, and was very weak from the loss of blood. The 
wound, it is true, proved by no means dangerous, yet it 
called for rest. Von Schwanthal, when he first heard of 
it, was inconsolable, begged the young man’s pardon a thou- 
sand times, offered to keep watch himself all night, then 
abused the doctor and his base accomplices again, and at last, 
proposed to permit their prisoner, who probably knew some 
little of surgery, at all events, to use his hands so far as to 
dress the wounded limb — the upper part of the right arm. 
Werner had, meanwhile, found a much dearer and better 
doctor than him whom Van Schwanthal proposed — Bertha. 
Scarcely had she heard that the young man was wounded — 
wounded on her account — before she quickly, and with a 
strength which one would not have supposed her capable of, 
tore off the linen kerchief which she wore lightly tied round 
her neck, and begged — how could Werner resist such a re- 
quest ? — to be allowed to examine, and bind up the wounded 
limb. Her sister lent a helping hand, and Werner was 
ordered, notwithstanding all his opposition, to lie down and 
rest himself, so that he might not catch cold, and the wound, 
which then was not serious, be aggravated by inflammation. 
But he would not agree to this on any condition — not even 
upon the persevering request of the pretty girls ; his place, 
he said, was beside the fire half the night, but the other half 


TREACHERY WITHIN TREACHERY. 


253 


with the watch, to preserve those from harm whom he had 
been so fortunate as to save. 

Accordingly, it was so done ; the men relieved each other 
regularly, although nothing suspicious further occurred, and 
Normann was too securely guarded to escape. It was not 
till the sun rose on the following morning, in all his splen- 
dour and majesty, that they broke up to depart, and to follow 
the tracks of the horsemen who had ridden on before. 

The only remaining horse was now applied to the use of 
the two young ladies, and Bertha, with Louisa mounted be- 
hind her, sat as firmly in the saddle as though she had been 
used to romp about on horseback from infancy. But Wer- 
ner walked by her side, and held the bridle of the spirited 
horse, as it stamped along, or she might not have mustered 
courage to do so. Normann was compelled to accompany 
the party with his hands tied behind his back, and with Von 
Schwanthal marching close after him ; while the little negro 
was dispatched to the nearest town, to fetch the sheriff, in 
order to deliver up the criminal into his hands. Scipio, on 
the other hand, who had offered himself as their conductor, 
was to keep up a good fire at the mouth of the Hatchee, 
to collect the scattered settlers, who, it was conjectured, had 
missed their way, and bivouacked in the woods. Helldorf 
assured them that he was able readily to find the road from 
the horse and wagon tracks. 

Sure enough, the remaining pursuers of the kidnappers, 
although they had not exactly lost themselves, yet had so 
entangled themselves in thickets and briers, that they found 
it impossible to get on after darkness had set in. Now they 
tumbled into a ditch, then stumbled over a branch or a root, 
and tore their hands and faces in a most melancholy manner. 
In all their troubles they had kept closer and closer together, 
in order by their mutual vicinity to keep off, in part at least, 
the uncomfortable feeling which seized upon them, however 
brave they might be, when they gazed into the surrounding 
darkness, whence now and then, wild, strange, and some- 
times fearful cries of animals resounded and filled them with 
terror. By the next morning’s light, however, they followed 
the course of the Hatchee, which brought them to the shores 
of the Mississippi, where the trusty black received them, and 
gave them tidings of all that had occurred. 

The luggage of the three friends had been meanwhile 


254 


THE MIGRATION. 


got into Wolfgang’s house, and Scipio, who had first of all 
refreshed his guests with meat and drink, conducted them, 
following the old wagon tracks, as Helldorf had done, back 
to the settlement, where the poor little tailor took to his bed 
at once, and, in consequence of the unusual exertion, had a 
regular bone-shaking attack of the cold fever, or ague. 


CHAPTER X. 

THE MIGRATION. 

We must now pass over a period of nearly a year, and I 
will merely relate, in few words, what took place in the set- 
tlement and its neighbourhood in the interim. 

The sheriff, accompanied by two constables, had taken 
away Dr. Normann to the county town, but the settlers found 
themselves, in consequence, involved in infinite trouble, for 
almost every one of those who had taken part in the pur- 
suit and capture of that scoundrel was summoned to give evi- 
dence upon oath, before the court ; even Bertha and Louisa 
had to go there, and Wolfgang subsequently often expressed 
his opinion that it would have been better to have allowed 
him to pursue the course which he had wished to take, and 
then there would have been no occasion for all this trouble ; 
Parson Hehrmann, on the other hand, declared that he wil- 
lingly submitted to it all, for that his conscience could not 
now accuse him of shedding, or of being party to the shed- 
ding of human blood. 

Dr. Normann, or Wsehler, as his name was discovered to 
be at the trial, was found guilty by the jury, and sentenced 
to ten years’ imprisonment in the House of Correction ; it is 
true, that he subsequently appealed to the court of the United 
States, but without obtaining a more favourable result ; and 
in the early part of the following year, he was delivered over 
in irons to the penitentiary of the state. 

But how did it fare with the settlers, now that they had 
arrived in the foreign, but much-wished-for country ? Alas, 
ill enough ! At first, Helldorf and Schwarz had taken the 
greatest pains to induce them to migrate to a healthier dis- 
trict, and that without further loss of time ; but the good folks 


THE MIGRATION. 


255 


would only profit by experience, and would first pass through 
every successive stage of expectation deceived and hope de- 
stroyed ; without which practical lessons, Germans seldom 
follow advice. As Helldorf and Schwarz, therefore, soon 
discovered that further persuasion was not merely useless, 
but would even tend to confirm the obstinate people in their 
stupid resolution, they gave up preaching of colours to the 
blind, who could not see or comprehend them. Werner, on 
the other hand, brought into nearer contact with the Hehr- 
manns, and emboldened by his adventures and good fortune, 
sued for the little hand of the dear, blushing Bertha, and the 
parents gave their cheerful and willing assent, on condition 
that he should settle among them, and, like themselves, be- 
come a farmer. Mindful, however, of the warnings of his 
friends, and unwilling, besides, to cultivate a spot where the 
inexperienced Germans had been banished by the fraud of a 
fellow-countryman, he begged them to grant him a year’s 
delay, till he should have founded a little home for himself, 
when he would fetch bride and parents together, and would, 
with willing heart, work hard, in order to have all the dear 
ones beside him. 

Pastor Hehrmann, at that time, it is true, shook his head, 
and replied very gravely, that he had, once for all, given his 
word to the association, faithfully to stay beside them so long 
as they required him, and he should be the last to go from 
so important and self-imposed a duty. Helldorf, however, 
gave his opinion, with a laugh, that if there were nothing 
else to detain him beside that, Pastor Hehrmann would, no 
doubt, be a free and independent man, in the following year, 
and would willingly accompany his son-in-law to a healthier 
climate and pleasanter neighbourhood ; he, moreover, would 
warrant, that within a year, Werner should have made a 
beginning on a sufficient little property ; and he longed not 
a little himself for the time when he should become a neigh- 
bour of the families of Hehrmann and Werner. 

Accordingly, matters remained thus for the present ; 
Werner, after a stay of about three weeks, cleared out, — ac- 
companied by Schwarz and Helldorf, and even by Wolf- 
gang, the latter of whom, however, only intended to view the 
country, and to return to the Mississippi, for the present, — 
across" to the southern part of Missouri, and there the 


256 


THE MIGRATION. 


three settled themselves on the woody banks of the Big Black 
River. 

They had worked and toiled there during three months 
or so, and with the little capital which they possessed, and 
warned by the experience of Helldorf and Schwarz, they 
had really performed wonders, when one day, Werner got 
hold of that sealed letter of introduction, which was directed 
to a distant relative of his own, settled but a few miles from 
where they were living. Werner would hitherto, on no ac- 
count, seek him out, but now that his own circumstances 
looked rather more prosperous, the wish occurred to him to 
make the acquaintance of the old man, of whom his uncle 
had formerly often spoken to him. 

Dr. Wisslock resided, although he had but little inter- 
course with the neighbourhood, on the high road leading 
from St. Louis to Arkansas, and was reputed, as Werner 
had learnt from some of his neighbours, not only to be the 
possessor of a very considerable farm, and much property, 
but also, although very eccentric, to be a very good-hearted 
man. 

It was a Sunday, when Werner determined to look him 
up, and with the letter in his pocket, he reached, just before 
dinner-time, the neat and well-kept fence of the fields of 
Indian corn, between which, a straight, broad road led to the 
homestead. Werner followed this, and arrived before the 
house, threw his horse’s bridle over a rack erected there for 
the purpose, and after tapping twice at the door without re- 
ceiving an answer, stepped into the house, and from thence 
walked into a room, the door of which stood ajar. Here he 
found himself at once in the presence of his relative, Dr. 
Wisslock, introduced himself briefly and pithily, and handed 
him the letter. 

“ Hem !” said the old man, when he had hastily skimmed 
through it — “ hem ! What has the young gentleman learnt, 
that he comes dropping, as from the clouds into the back 
woods in this way ? — educated at a university — eh ?” 

Werner answered affirmatively. 

“And now, all at once, wants to become a farmer?” 

“ A farmer’s life has been described to me,” replied the 
other, “ by several friends, as most suitable for a German.” 

“ Oh, ah ! Yes, I dare say !” growled Dr. Wisslock, 
nodding his head, significantly ; “ I dare say, picturesque 


THE MIGRATION. 


257 


landscape — hanging woods and rocks — creepers and wild 
vines — bleating herds, and bear’s flesh — the usual dream. 
You’ll find out your mistake.” 

“I scarcely think so,” said Werner, smiling; “what 
I have hitherto seen of the country, pleases me much.” 

“ You’ll think differently when you come to handle the 
axe and the plough,” grumbled the old fellow, by no means 
more agreeably disposed by this reply. “ Here, in the woods, 
there is no getting on without work, nor without right-down 
hard work either ; we can’t buy little niggers and blackamoors, 
directly. Do you intend to settle ?” 

“It’s already done,” replied Werner, rather shortly, for 
the reception of the old man began to displease him. 

“ Already done ?” he asked, surprised, as he stopped a 
pinch of snuff* midway to his nose. “Already done! why, 
how long has the young gentleman been in America, then ?” 
and he opened the letter again, and looked at its date. 

“ Almost a year, and for the last half-year I have been 
your neighbour, though rather a distant one.” 

“ Oh, the deuce !” exclaimed the old man, and a peculiar 
kind of movement played round the corners of his mouth, 
“ the deuce ! Then you’re perhaps actually T)ne of the three 
young Germans who have made such a good start on the 
Black River ?” 

Werner nodded his head silently. 

“Very glad to make your acquaintance,” continued the 
old man, becoming very friendly, and even hearty all at once, 
— “ have heard nothing but good report of all of you, and was 
shortly coming to see you. But be seated, I beg, be seated. 
So you’ve carried the introduction about in your pocket’for 
half a year ! Hem ! why didn’t you come to me at once ?” 

“ I had brought introductions to New York and Phila- 
delphia,” replied^Werner, “ and seeing their result, or rather 
finding that they had no result, and, as I now feel well enough, 
could have had none, I laid by the rest of the letters in my 
box, and indeed shouldn’t have delivered this had it not been 
sealed, and had I not wished besides to make your acquaint- 
ance.” 

“ Hem — hem !” interjected the old man, and one could 
read in his looks how pleased he was with the firm, manly be- 
haviour of the young man ; “ hem — hem ! very reasonable that 
— must dine with me first — afterwards I’ll take a ride over 

12 * 


258 


THE MIGRATION. 


with you to the Black River — can sleep there, I suppose — eh ? 
Should like to see your housekeeping there — hern — hem ! — 
three bachelors — eh ? Heaven have mercy upon us ! — there 
is but one here, and even with him things are bad enough.” 

The old man chatted away for a long time in his peculiar, 
but good-tempered style, and actually trotted over to the 
“Three Mens’ Farm,” (as it was called in the vicinity, from 
the three proprietors,) that same evening. 

But Dr. Wisslock was not the man to let the matter drop 
there. If Werner had brought the letter to him at first, and so, 
if not directly, still to a certain extent indirectly, challenged 
him to assist him, he might perhaps have met him with the 
usual American saying, “Help thyself!” But here was quite 
a different case — the young man did not want him ; he had 
proved that he did not want him, and was only come there to 
make his acquaintance — that sounded quite differently. Be- 
sides, Werner knew nothing of a clause which was appended 
to the letter, and which his old uncle had not read to him 
with the rest. 

The Doctor, as he was briefly styled in all the country 
round, now took a very particular interest in the plans of the 
three young people, whom he liked more and more upon 
further acquaintance. He inquired about one thing and 
the other, and made himself intimately acquainted with all, 
and not only helped them with excellent advice, but also 
subsequently, cheerfully, and with good will, by act and deed. 
Meanwhile, he had ascertained all the particulars, as well 
concerning the joint-stock settlement, as of Werner’s love, 
and the worthy family of the Hehrmanns. But from that 
moment forward, he urged and urged Werner to go across 
and fetch the Hehrmanns out of the swamps, and put them 
in train to become acquainted with the real life in the west, 
that they might not in those poisonous swamps imbibe a 
distaste for the noble woods. But Werner knew but too 
well that Hehrmann would never desert the settlement so 
long as the colony had existence, however few the members 
might be of which it might consist. 

Besides, he had firmly resolved not to return to the 
Hatchee until he should be in a position to earn his liveli- 
hood, and subsist independently ; such was, however, not yet 
the case, and full six months more elapsed before he had 
erected a little dwelling on his own land, and had procured all 


THE MIGRATION. 


259 


kinds of necessary implements. But when that was done, the 
old man left him no more peace, and he and Helldorf, who 
volunteered as his companion, set out one fresh sunny morn- 
ing in Autumn, after nearly a year’s absence, to visit his 
sweetheart, and, with the parents’ blessing, to fetch her home 
to his quiet cheerful house. 

Mounted on hardy ponies, the two friends trotted freshly 
and merrily along through the autumnal forest canopy, and 
although the wondrous splendour of colour of the foliage, and 
the thousand various tints of the fading leaves, now and 
then riveted their eyes, distracting the gaze to and fro, 
and although they could hardly sufficiently admire the 
constantly fresh beauties which were presenting themselves, 
still they did not, on that account, stay the course of their 
horses ; and after a difficult ride through the Mississippi 
swamps, which, although then dry, were yet overgrown with 
rank vegetation, reached the broad stream, took advantage of 
a ferry kept up near the southern boundary of Kentucky, to 
be set across, and now kept along the eastern shore, and at 
the foot of the hills as far as Jackson, in order to avoid the 
low land, and not to be further detained by the difficulties 
of the ground. 

It was not until the fourth day that they entered upon 
the narrow bridle path which the settlers, under Wolfgang’s 
guidance, had in former times marked out to the little town, 
by cutting blazes or large pieces of bark from the trees 
standing on this line. But the road, even when they came 
quite into the vicinity of the settlement, seemed not to have 
been used for a long time past ; the blazes were grown over, 
and the yellow leaves of Autumn covered, undisturbed, the 
slightest trace even of a path. Helldorf smiled quietly to 
himself, and after they had ridden silently for some time, 
merely observed — 

“ The young colony seems to keep itself pretty indepen- 
dent ; at all events, it does not seem to keep up much inter- 
course with the interior of the country.” 

“ Helldorf,” said Werner, giving, at the same time, his 
own beast the spurs, and pushing on beside his friend as a 
somewhat more open space allowed of their riding abreast ; 
“ Helldorf, it seems to me as though the young colony stood 
in no further connexion at all. I see no cattle any where, 
nor, indeed, any traces of any having ever pastured here ; 


260 


THE MIGRATION. 


no axe is to be heard, no — but, hold ! — what was that ? 
That sounded like one, at least ; then, after all, I may have 
been mistaken.” 

The men halted for a moment to listen, and then heard 
distinctly enough the distant, regular strokes of an axe. The 
sound came from the quarter where the settlement lay, and 
as they now knew that they were near their destination, they 
cantered cheerfully along through thorn and thicket, no 
longer following the blazed trees, but the guidance of their 
own hearing, into the woods. 

“ It still looks rather rural round the town of Hoffnung,” 
said Helldorf, as he was obliged to leap his nag over a great 
tree stem which lay crosswise in his way. Werner made 
no reply, but raised himself in the stirrups, and tried to get 
a view of the clearing, which began to be discernible through 
the lighter bush. 

But, good Heaven ! how deserted, how forsaken did that 
place look ! Where was the bustle and activity of a cheer- 
ful, industrious band of settlers, who must be intent on car- 
rying the stores of harvest to meet the approaching winter ? 
Where was the realization of those hopes which so many 
had nursed and revelled in, whereby a glad provision was to 
be made for them, and their children after them 1 Alas, they 
had all passed away ! — those plans and fancies, those bold 
castles in the air, those notions of public spirit and friendship. 
Discord and ill will had shown their seeds even in that se- 
cluded colony of the Mississippi swamp, or rather the seed 
which had been long sown had sprung up, and ripened its 
evil crop, and those expectations which had filled the hearts 
of the better sort with cheerful confidence, and for which 
they had quitted their native land and every thing dear, had 
there dissolved away into an evil, painful dream, and yonder 
stood the ruins, cold and bleak, staring towards heaven, as 
though they would testify to the hateful, evil disposition of 
mankind. 

“ Good Heaven ! what has happened here V 9 said Wer- 
ner, as he drew in his horse’s reins in alarm — “ where are 
all the people gone who formerly animated this place V 9 

“ Why, where should they be ?” said Helldorf, shrugging 
his shoulders ; “ dispersed in all quarters, as I foretold you. 
That does not surprise me much ; but that Pastor Hehrmann 


THE MIGRATION. 


261 


should not have let us know a word of his having left the 
place — that does seem extraordinary. 5 ’ 

“ There’s some one back yonder, chopping,” said Wer- 
ner ; “ his back is towards us ; now he turns this way. By 
all that’s holy, that’s Hehrmann ! — may I never see paradise 
if 1 did not recognize the face ! But how pale he looks !” 

“ Hehrmann, and alone here !” replied Helldrof, thought- 
fully. “ Well, .we will leave the horses behind awhile, for 
they won’t be able to make their way through this wild chaos 
of young shoots and old stumps ; we can then soon convince 
ourselves whether you are right. I hope, at least, that it may 
be so ; but let us advance — this uncertainty is dreadful.” 

The man, who had hitherto been chopping at a long stem, 
now lifted, with evident difficulty, a heavy log which he had 
cut off, on to his shoulder, and stepped with it towards the 
house ; there, outside the door, he put it down, and a young 
lad, who came running from another corner of the clearing, 
helped him to carry in the load. 

Helldorf and Werner hurried forward without exchang- 
ing another word, and in a few minutes were in front of the 
door, which was opened from within. 

Hehrmann, who, with the assistance of Charles, the former 
glazier’s apprentice, had just placed the heavy back-log on 
the fire, stood with his back towards them, but on his wife 
and daughters uttering a cry of surprise, on seeing those who 
had approached, he turned quickly round towards the door, 
and that with no presentiment of any good. But who shall 
describe his joyful astonishment, when he recognized the 
dear and long-wished for forms of those worthy men, for 
whose friendly voices he had so often longed ? Who can 
paint his feelings when he grasped Werner and Helldorf ’s 
hands, and with a hearty, although certainly rather tremulous 
voice, bade them a joyful, sincere “ Welcome ?” 

And what said Bertha to this meeting ? Oh, my dear 
reader, thou art not to know every thing ; thou must rest 
satisfied with being told that Werner had been a full hour in 
the house, and since he was first welcomed by Bertha, and 
yet, as if in absence of mind, kept her little hand lying 
warmly and firmly in his. Hast thou ever thus held a being 
the* was dear — very dear to thee ? Then thou knowest what 
it means, and if thou hast not — then, poor reader, then, any 


262 


THE MIGRATION. 


explanations or description which I might give would not as- 
sist thee. 

But how poor Werner’s heart bled, when he learnt, as he 
now by degrees did, the whole story of the sufferings of the 
young colony. The prophecies with which those who meant 
them well had warned them, had been but too soon fulfilled. 
Quarrels and discord broke out first when the people dis- 
covered that they could not, as they had actually supposed, 
become rich and independent in half a year, and the majority 
would no longer work, as they declared that they had no 
occasion to labour so hard for their own livelihood, and that 
they were not disposed to toil for others of the “ Gentry.” 

Becher had then, first of all, withdrawn himself from the 
affair, and given up what, he termed a hopeless business ; 
Siebert, junior, had followed him, and immediately afterwards 
the elder one had also disappeared, and that, as Hehrmann, 
Herbold, and Von Schwanthal could not conceal from the 
rest of the settlers, with a pretty considerable portion of the 
common funds. Pastor Hehrmann had then had great sacri- 
fices to make, and gave up the greater part of his already much 
diminished property to pacify those who made the loudest 
complaints, and to stave off the ruin of all his hopes, which 
else would have taken place at once. But what hurt him 
more than all was the ungrateful conduct of those whom he 
had most obliged, whom he had most actively supported. 
People who, without means of their own, had been hitherto 
supported from the common stock of the society, showed them- 
selves the most discontented ; the most embittered quarrels 
and disputes followed the distaste for work ; and although the 
better men among them, and Hehrmann as the foremost of 
these, gave way, and again and again endeavoured to restore 
a good understanding — although representations and even 
prayers were wasted upon the disturbers, it was in vain. 
“We are all equal here,” was the eternal answer ; “ and if 
I’m to toil and moil here, I should like to know what for,” said 
the stupid fellows, who either could not, or would not see, 
that by such bad faith they not only destroyed the society, 
but also brought the greatest evils upon themselves, as they 
now went off without knowing the language, without money, 
and without friends, into a strange country, and had to toil 
and plague themselves for yet stranger people, and fhat, 
perhaps, for six or seven dollars a month, and without re- 


THE MIGRATION. 


263 


ceiving either thanks or a friendly word in return. Von 
Schwanthal had left later, in order to see Arkansas ; for an 
American, who had passed through, had told him so much of 
the shooting in Arkansas, that he could no longer resist the 
newly-awakened and mighty love of hunting any longer. He 
embarked himself and his baggage, after having formally 
taken leave of the colony, for Little Rock, and intended, as 
he had told Pastor Hehrmann at parting, to lead a regular 
hunter’s life in the new state. 

Becher had gone to New Orleans, and the rest gradually 
dispersed to all quarters of the compass. Hehrmann saw 
them, one after another, take their leave, or even forsake the 
place without leave-taking ; but when he was left almost 
alone, and wished himself to seek a better, healthier home, 
when his last friend had disappeared with Wolfgang, who 
had cleared out for Missouri as late as seven months since, 
he found, to his alarm, that he no longer possessed the 
means. He had given away every thing — sacrificed all, in 
order that he might not see his favourite plan, the union of 
Germans in a fraternal society, founder. He had, when 
they learnt from Buffalo that the things left behind there 
were gone, and could not be traced, and the landlord pre- 
tended to know nothing about any thing of the kind — when 
subsequently link after link of the chain fell away — when 
those forsook him on whom he had calculated most — even 
when ridicule or contemptuous laughter met his ear, he had 
never hesitated. “We are melted down to a few,” he used 
to say to those few, “ but we can yet prove that people who 
religiously are in earnest in the good cause, can carry it 
through in spite of the greatest difficulties.” 

But he soon discovered that those who continued with 
him were, for the most part, merely compelled to do so, be- 
cause they did not possess a single dollar wherewith to pay 
their passage any where else, and gladly seized upon the 
first opportunity which offered, without troubling themselves 
much as to what became of Pastor Hehrmann and his family, 
whom they left alone in the swamps. 

One only continued with them honestly and faithfully — 
one only never forgot how well, how kindly he had been 
taken by the hand by this family, when he himself stood 
alone and friendless. This was Charles, the former glazier’s 
apprentice, and richly did he requite all the benefits he had 


264 


THE MIGRATION. 


received, especially during the past summer, when Pastor 
Hehrmann, himself, was confined to his bed for weeks, by 
fever. Oh, how often, how ardently had they longed for 
Werner to come back — that he might keep his word, and 
seek them again in their now disconsolate solitude ! Alas ! 
the mother had already begun to doubt, and had said — 

“ You’ll see, my child ; he has acted like the rest of them ; 
he has gone off, far, far away, and no longer thinks of those, 
formerly his so dear friends, whom he has left behind.” 

“ Or. perhaps, lies ill and helpless himself among stran- 
gers,” worthy Hehrmann would then usually interrupt her, 
for still he never could make up his mind to think ill of any 
one, unless, as, alas ! had latterly often been the case, he 
was compelled to do so against his will. Bertha would on 
such occasions stealthily press her father’s hand, and wipe 
a tear from her eye, for still she did not doubt her lover’s 
word ; but the idea that he might be ill and suffering, might 
stand in need of her help, that alone it was which pained 
her, and which, however much she might strive against it, 
oppressed her with melancholy. 

Louisa, too, who had, by this time, grown up to Cull, 
blooming womanhood, had latterly become strikingly sad and 
melancholy, and had even, when the conversation turned 
upon Werner and his friends, several times left the room, 
and afterwards returned, with eyes dimmed and red with 
crying. 

Such was the posture of affairs at the “ Hoffnung,” or 
“ Hope,” as they had (with so little presentiment of the re- 
sult) named the town, which, indeed, was destined to remain 
a hope, merely. But Werner and Helldorf now sat down 
beside Hehrmann, who in this one year seemed to have added 
ten to his age, and spoke to him of courage and comfort. 

“You cannot stay here any longer,” said Helldorf, at 
last. “Wolfgang, too, has particularly commissioned us to 
bring you away, at all events. We have capital land in 
Missouri, and although not adequately furnished, still have 
such conveniences as a farmer in the woods needs. A 
farm lies ready for you : you can begin to work, and till it, 
at once ; cattle there are also ; so that with what yet remains 
here ” # 

“ Oh, my good Mr. Helldorf,” said Hehrmann, shrugging 
his shoulders, “it would certainly be difficult to begin with 


THE MIGRATION. 


265 


what remains here. Not a single head remains — not even a 
single horse, to perform the most needful work. The people 
have left me nothing, and what cows and pigs we had, were 
all eaten half-a-year ago. I would gladly have bought a cow 
again, in order to have milk for my family, at least — but, in 
the first place, I could not spare time to leave the farm so 
long, and then I doubted whether the price might not be be- 
yond my means. Our ready money has, perhaps through 
our own fault, very much dwindled down.” 

“ Hem I” said Helldorf, reflectively, not wishing to let it 
be seen how much all that he heard pained him ; “ hem — 
then matters are indeed come to extremity. But, my dear 
Mr. Hehrmann, don’t let that trouble you ; you have pur- 
chased experience dearly, it is true, but yet, perhaps, not too 
dearly ; you are all still healthy, you know ; consider how it 
fared with poor Wolfgang. No; from henceforward I trust 
a better life is in store for you. You will come with us — 
won’t you ?” 

“ Gladly, to a healthier climate,” replied he. “ I have 
done all that God or man can require of me, and now I owe 
it to my family to lead them hence ; in order to do so, I cer- 
tainly stand much in need of your help, but, if I keep my 
health, be assured that you will not have obliged one who 
will be ungrateful.” 

“ Enough, enough !” said Helldorf, smiling ; “ who knows 
how soon we may not hold you to your word ?” 

“ But what is to become of Charles ?” asked Madame 
Hehrmann — “ we cannot leave the poor boy here all alone.” 

“ No, certainly not,” said Werner ; “ he shall go with us, 
and if he has a liking for farming, shall found a home for 
himself; so far as it is in our power to help him, he may 
rely upon us. That he has kept with you so honestly and 
faithfully deserves not only our warmest thanks, but also 
some return, and he shall never find us behindhand.” 

The preparations for removal were soon made ; the little 
which the settlers had left Pastor Hehrmann, and which was 
really worth carriage, such as the clothes and linen of the 
family (of which, however, very much had been carried off) 
was got together. But the little family-council, which was 
called for the purpose, really did not know how that little 
was to be transported as far as the Mississippi, as the horses 
could not possibly carry all, and the road was too long to 


THE MIGRATION. 


2 66 


make more than one journey. At this juncture, Helldorf 
made a suggestion which was immediately accepted, and 
quickly put into execution — namely, to form a light raft on 
the then swollen Hatchee, to cover it with the boards which 
roofed the house, and upon this to float down their whole 
stock. They had no occasion to chop trees for this purpose, 
but took a small log-hut rudely erected for storing Indian 
corn, but which, as no Indian corn had been yet raised, had 
never been used, carried the short and not very heavy stems 
to the rivulet, tied them together with such ropes as yet re- 
mained, and soon found that the new construction answered 
its purpose admirably. 

The things were then made fast upon it, and Helldorf and 
Charles undertook to steer it down stream. Werner and 
Hehrmann were to lead the little caravan towards the Mis- 
sissippi, for which the two saddles were by ingenious contri- 
vances turned into side saddles. One of these was occupied 
by Madame Hehrmann, and Bertha and Louisa occupied the 
other by turns. 

Helldorf had wished, at first, to take the women with him 
upon the raft, upon which they certainly might have per- 
formed the journey very smoothly. And the otherwise so 
bashful Louisa had been quite ready to throw aside all fear, 
and to confide herself to the care of the new captain of the 
raft, as he called himself in joke ; but Madame Hehrmann 
feared to trust herself to so fragile a conveyance, and the land 
journey consequently received the preference. 

They reached the stream without any accident, and were 
there compelled to avail themselves of Wolfgang’s almost 
ruinous hut, to avoid an approaching storm, and to await the 
arrival of a steamer, going up stream. Fortunately, the lat- 
ter happened first. It was the Marmion, a dreadfully slow 
boat, which crept along the shore like a snail, but, on that 
very account, landed any where whenever a signal was made 
to take in passengers or goods. She was bound for Cincin- 
nati, and they availed themselves of her as far as Benton, in 
Missouri, landed there, hired a large carrier’s wagon, to the 
teamster of which they intrusted their whole luggage, bought 
some more horses, and then prosecuted their journey quickly, 
and without further hinderance. 

They thus reached a spot, within about a mile of 
their future abode, where speculative heads had, in earlier 


THE MIGRATION. 


267 


times, planned a town which did not answer, and was aban- 
doned. An old Yankee lived by himself upon the spot, and 
had planted the clearing, destined for public buildings, with 
Indian corn. 

Here, to Werner’s astonishment, Dr. Wisslock came to 
meet them, saluted the company very politely, and then, as 
opportunity occurred, appeared to have much and important 
business to discuss with Helldorf. The latter had not left 
Louisa’s side during the whole ride from Benton, and must 
have had a great many very interesting things to tell her, for 
the two had often, out of mere absence of mind, lagged seve- 
ral hundred yards in the rear, and could only be brought up 
with the main body by repeated shouts and signals. 

Werner could not imagine what, in the name of wonder, 
could have induced Dr. Wisslock to ride thus far to meet 
them, and then to carry on this conversation aside, which 
surely could have very well kept till the end of their journey. 
But he did not remain long in the dark as to the object of 
this mysterious conduct, for Helldorf suddenly advanced to- 
ward the Hehrmann family, who were encamped under a 
wide spreading hickory, and proposed — Werner’s astonish- 
ment may be conceived — formally for Louisa’s hand ! 

“ And in order that you, dear father,” he turned to him, 
“ may no longer stand alone in the world — in order that you 
may not be forsaken by your children also, as others have 
forsaken you, come and live with me, on my farm, and we 
will conduct our farming together, so that it shall be a plea- 
sure to us both, and so that you may look forward with 
courage and confidence to an old age, cheerful and free from 
care.” 

“ I protest against that,” exclaimed Werner, without 
leaving any one else time to speak. “ I have priority — you 
come with me and Bertha ; or, if you won’t do that — at least, 
live alternately with each, so that each of your children may 
enjoy your society.” 

“Halloo there, young gentleman!” said Dr. Wisslock, 
who had by this time approached, and taken hold of Wer- 
ner’s arm. “ First of all, that young lady yonder, who has 
suddenly turned so red, has got a word to say, and then we 
two have also a crow to pick together.” 

“ We two ?” said Werner, astonished. 

“ Yes, we two,” continued the old man, without losing 


268 


THE MIGRATION. 


his gravity, whilst Louisa, as if dyed in crimson, hid her 
blushing face in her mother’s bosom, and at last, when 
Helldorf again and again pressed her, merely reached him 
her little hand without looking at him or changing her pos- 
ture. 

“ But, my dear doctor, what, in the first place, have you 
to say to me ?” 

“ That I’ll explain directly to the young gentleman. 
Does he suppose that he brings me a letter, in which my 
cousin — but that would be a secondary matter — no, the best 
friend of my youth — charges me, by all that I hold dear, to 
care for him as for a son !” 

“ But, my good ” 

“ Hear me out ! — to care for him as for a son, I say. 
Does the young gentleman suppose that I have so quickly 
forgotten all that I owe his old uncle ? and that is all I pos- 
sess. No, indeed ! In order, however, that I may, in dis- 
charging a portion of my obligation, yet derive a benefit 
from it, I have planned the thing in this way : — The young 
gentleman marries Pastor Hehrmann’s elder daughter, and 
goes to live on my farm, which he ” 

“ Doctor ” 

“ Hear me out, I say ! — which he uses and works as 
though it were his own. But the old doctor, with whom 
ploughing and chopping have not exactly agreed for the last 
two years, must be fed and nursed until his end, in return 
for which he engages besides to find the young gentleman 
and his family in medicine and medical attendance during 
any illnesses which may occur — zvithont the use of calomel 
— and gratis. When l happen to die, of course he inherits 
what I have scraped together here ; but it is to be hoped 
that he will have quite enough to do with me, and can very 
well afford to leave his wife’s parents to their other son, 
whom, by-the-bye, he may always take as a pattern for him- 
self. So now the young gentleman may speak — is he con- 
tent ?” 

“ Dear doctor — your goodness — you — you heap benefits 
upon me which — I really don’t know — Bertha ” 

“ Well, of course, that’s understood,” the doctor quickly 
interrupted him ; “ you must first ask your bride whether 
she will undertake the arduous office of sick nurse to an 
old man like me — she of course has the principal voice in 


THE MIGRATION. 


269 


the matter, for hers will be the greatest burthen and trouble. 
Well, miss,” he said, turning with gravity to the charming 
girl, “ Do you say ‘ Yes ’ or 1 No,’ to the bargain ?” 

Bertha, with agitated feelings, seized the old man’s hand, 
and assured him that she would always be a good, faithful 
daughter to him. This so pleased the doctor, that he first 
looked kindly and fixedly in her bright eyes, and then, all 
at once, ’without further warning, took hold of her head, and 
gave her a hearty kiss. 

Is there any need of further description of these happy 
people ? Hardly — Love and Friendship made to them their 
rude home in the woods a paradise, and the old doctor, who 
had been already vegetating there for many long years past, 
forsaken and alone, completely revived in the midst of them, 
to a new and almost forgotten existence. 

What became of the other settlers, remained for the most 
part unknown. Von Schwanthal had gone to Arkansas, as 
already mentioned ; the elder Siebert was subsequently met 
by Becher in New Orleans, but he was not destined long to 
enjoy the fruits of his breach of trust ; he died of yellow 
fever, and was robbed, by a mulatto woman, who had waited 
on him during his brief sickness, of every thing which he 
called his, and, by reason of total absence of funds, was 
earthed away with a thousand others whom “Yellow Jack” 
had swept off about the same time, in the Potter’s field, in a 
wet, swampy soil. The brewer made his way to Cincinnati, 
and was quite hearty when the shoemaker subsequently met 
him there ; Herbold, too, started a distillery, somewhere in 
Ohio state, and Schmidt was, after a lapse of some years, 
reported to have been seen in Illinois. The poor tailor fared, 
perhaps, the most strangely ; he wa"5 very lucky at first, 
went to Little Rock, got work there, and earned so much 
money that he was enabled to begin business on his own ac- 
count, in a small way ; but then bad times came, money got 
scarce, and saving had to be practised, to which rule of con- 
duct Meier, who, by this time, had begun to play the dandy 
a little, would, on no account, conform. The natural con- 
sequence did not fail to ensue : he got into debt, and accepted 
an offer of marriage from a rather elderly lady, on condition 
that she should pay his debts ; this was done, and Meier was 
now to become a happy husband. But not wishing to carry 
the joke to that length, he endeavoured to escape southward, 


270 


THE MIGRATION. 


on a steamer which happened to be there at the time, but 
was discovered, and, on that very day, united in the holy 
bands of matrimony to his forgiving bride. 

Next year, they learnt that Dr. Normann, or Waehler — 
perhaps even that was not his real name — had been trans- 
ferred to the penitentiary of the State ; but of Turner, no 
further trace was ever found, save that Pastor Hehrmann 
affirmed at a subsequent period that he had seen him at St. 
Louis, whither he had gone on business ; he had too quickly 
disappeared again, however, for the former to make himself 
certain of the fact. Nor did any one know the name there. 

But what cared the happy ones about these scoundrels ? 
They left them to their own shame and dishonour, and to 
the contempt of all good and honest men ; whilst they them- 
selves toiled and laboured on, in their allotted, although nar- 
row sphere of life, according to the best of their ability, and 
the “ Three Men’s Farm,” as the settlement still continued 
to be called — when Schwarz, too, afterwards sought unto 
himself, from among the daughters of the land, a dear little 
wife — was soon reputed to be one of the best in the United 
States. 


THE END. 


LEA* 


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V 












